05-21-2008, 04:13 AM
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He felt restless. There was anger in him and the wound wasn't quite healing. It pained him to walk for long distances yet every day he would stubbornly leave Shadowed Sun and walk for miles. Sometimes he would not return in the evening. Food was plentiful here and Lubomir would catch the odd hare or do a bit of fishing, avoiding any wolves he could smell, shifters or otherwise. Where Gabriel had bit him there was a dull throbbing pain, a reminder of his brush with death. But still the anger would not subside, no matter how much Lubomir tried to reason with himself. Now, in his not quite impressive Optime form, he was crossing Ethereal Eclipse, holding tools for writing. He would find a way to get rid of the anguish in his heart.
Lubomir could smell wolf again. He snarled, which caused him to blink in surprise. Never before had he been so hostile towards company, not even when crossing the Great Frozen Plains. He sat at the edge of their territory, trusting the trees to hide him. And then he buried his nose in his writing, scribbling furiously until the paper was ruined, making him destroy it in a fit of anger, his blood boiling. And then Lubomir stopped. Why had he honestly done that just now? Why the reaction? A great loneliness swept over him and he found himself thinking of Ember. He truly did miss her. And now he yearned for company, for someone to understand him. Or to tell him exactly why that wolf had so viciously attacked him.
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He felt restless. There was anger in him and the wound wasn't quite healing. It pained him to walk for long distances yet every day he would stubbornly leave Shadowed Sun and walk for miles. Sometimes he would not return in the evening. Food was plentiful here and Lubomir would catch the odd hare or do a bit of fishing, avoiding any wolves he could smell, shifters or otherwise. Where Gabriel had bit him there was a dull throbbing pain, a reminder of his brush with death. But still the anger would not subside, no matter how much Lubomir tried to reason with himself. Now, in his not quite impressive Optime form, he was crossing Ethereal Eclipse, holding tools for writing. He would find a way to get rid of the anguish in his heart.
Lubomir could smell wolf again. He snarled, which caused him to blink in surprise. Never before had he been so hostile towards company, not even when crossing the Great Frozen Plains. He sat at the edge of their territory, trusting the trees to hide him. And then he buried his nose in his writing, scribbling furiously until the paper was ruined, making him destroy it in a fit of anger, his blood boiling. And then Lubomir stopped. Why had he honestly done that just now? Why the reaction? A great loneliness swept over him and he found himself thinking of Ember. He truly did miss her. And now he yearned for company, for someone to understand him. Or to tell him exactly why that wolf had so viciously attacked him.