11-16-2011, 02:19 PM
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[/html]A month after the final battle, Turnstone was miraculously alive. He hadn't realized how many they'd lost after it was all over, so he was just glad to have gotten out of there alive. So, with renewed vigour and a slowly-healing body, he took to helping the pack any way he could. He patrolled the borders, joined in on pack hunts, and spoke to anyone who was willing to listen. He felt a sense of pride knowing that he was a part of this pack and was determined to defend it. He knew that his fighting experience had been slim, so he tried to help in other, yet useful, ways.[/html]
Today, one of those duties was border patrol. He was fairly close to the source of the howl, so when he heard it, he replied with one of his own to acknowledge it. He then set off, running at a leisurely pace in his secui form. After the battle, he preferred to use his secui form to patrol simply because it was faster and much more imposing. However, he still had his leather belt with his goedendag secured to his waist in case he needed it after shifting. The pointed club was just short enough that he could lash it to his belt and hold it in place without it impeding his movement. He had also carefully wrapped the pointed metal end so he didn't injure himself by accident.
After ten minutes, he found himself arriving at the borders where the strangers were waiting. There were three of them, all on horseback. As he approached, he shifted into his optime form. He pulled his belt around so his weapon was at his hip instead of the middle of his back. He removed the extra leather protector and wrapped it around his right wrist. Once he was ready, he trotted closer to reveal himself.
"Hello," he stated. "Can I help you with something?" He was, of course, cautious. His tone was wary and his body language projected an untrusting nature. With the recent war, he did not want anything bad to come to his new home. [html]