WC 447
Though he had been in these lands for several days, skulking around unfamiliar trees and roads and coastlines, Columbine Lykoi had only just come to the boarders of the lands called Inferni. Time that felt like eons passed but still the male remembered the promise he made to his brother. He and his siblings, Jacinto and Illusion, would follow Helotes to find the so called promise land, but only after they tended to their ailing mother. In the time between his arrival in the aforementioned land and actually finding the pack where he was supposed to be, Columbine lurked like a shadow underneath the dying trees, familiarizing himself with the new smells, shapes, and sounds he would come to call home.
It was a relatively interesting place, though the male held no particular attachment to the new shadowy woods. His mind had long ago lost the part where he could particularly form any new sort of bond, but the male was not particularly concerned with that. Instead, he found himself consumed with the idea of power and dignity; where he was the king, and nobody could treat him as anything less. But still he found himself following his goddamned brother Helotes, even if Helotes were young than he, and it brought him to this moment: standing in front of a particularly decrepit looking skull, a faint look of distaste curled around his upper lips.
The male had been traveling in Secui form. Columbine found he was comfortable in Secui, and enjoyed the benefits it gave him over the slightly smaller Lupus version. In either respect he was considered large for his breeding (especially with the prominent Coyote genetics), though nowhere close to the tallest Luperci. Still, Columbine found himself rather impressive and intimidating: the male carried himself with an air of superiority and minimal disgust, and his body was very obviously covered in thick cords of muscle. Inhaling deeply, he turned his eyes away from the skulls and, flicking his tattered ears and assessing his safety, the male began the rather arduous process of shifting.
With several sharp cracks, snaps, and muffled stretching, Columbine Lykoi found himself on hands and knees. The male rose, brushing himself off, and sniffed the air. His senses were acute; Columbine could tell he was in the correct place. The idea that he might have to call a leader to discuss his future living situation was irksome to the male - he saw no reason why the whole affair should not go swimmingly. Regardless, this necessary evil led the shadowy male to throw back his head and send out a sharp, ringing coyote song, alerting those in the vicinity to his unfamiliar presence.
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