The dark wolf was a beast made for his duty. While he often felt the weight on his bones, he continued with no complaints. It would catch up to him, one day, but he was still fit and still in his prime. Six years old was barely brushing against the twilight age he had seen others in. Hell, Misery had been ancient when she had come for him—he imagined she had since returned to the gods, as was the role of all those chosen by them. He wondered sometimes if Tak would claim him; as much as he believed himself to be saved, he had seen and heard so many things that warned him this was not true.
He licked at his muzzle and tilted his head, as if thinking. “Duties. We have much to do here, especially before fall.” The Arbiter reached over for another fish, and between his meal, continued to speak at length about Salsola’s preparations. They avoided sensitive topics, and once the meal was finished, traveled back to the Ruins together.
.larktext .lyrics {font-size:22px; font-weight:bold; font-family: 'Special Elite', arial, serif; letter-spacing:-1px; word-spacing:4px; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:center;}
.larktext .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-face:italic; font-size:10px; text-align:center;}
.larktext p {text-indent:25px; padding:1px 1px; margin:0px;}
.larktext {margin:0px auto; width:80%; background-color:none; background-image:url(); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 10px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: times, sans-serif; font-size:14px; line-height:14px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
.larktext .separator{width:100%px; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; margin:0 auto 5px auto;}
</style>[/html]