There's no going back.

Light Goldenfeather · 12-16-2011, 10:47 AM

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Word Count → 465 :: Sorry mostly character development here... if you want to know what he's so distraught over stay tuned to [M] The splendour of your curves

The troubled hunter had a rough sleep that night, his mind completely overrun with confusion and a sense of dread. Not only one but two of his pack mates knew of his weakness, his problem. He had attempted to prove the fact to be fictitious with the pale scarred beautiful woman but the difficulty of the task had been too clear and easily she seen through it. He glanced down at the partially covered female that rested so peacefully, her head upon his lap. She was covered in his furs atop the small couch he had dragged into his small bachelor hut. He stroked her hair and carefully started to rise. He needed a run that day anything to get his mind off the act he had committed. He felt absolutely terrible for doing it even against his beliefs, even against his body’s annoying chemistry that burdened him so deeply.

He sighed heavily as he stepped outside into the brisk early morning. His body was aching and slightly bleeding from the vigorous actions the night before. He rubbed off the slight bead of dried blood upon his chest and stared at it as it clung to his fingertip. His mind filled with terrible thought feeling like he had sinned and failed his dear friends for doing what he did. He kicked the small stool he often set his evening bottle of Gin on and let out a growl of frustration. The stool flew across the clearing between huts within the village and he sighed going out to retrieve it. He needed to go talk to his friend, he needed to express the truth of his actions or it would eat at him like a plague hell bent on destroying him. He needed to confess even if it meant the loss of his friendship with the albino coy-dog. His mother always taught him to do right by his friends.

Once the stool was settled back in its place a slight wobble to it now he started to head toward the home of his friends. It was then he heard the bark that called out to not only him but the young white female he had met the previous morning. He glanced in the direction of the bark and then the home of his friends. A deep sigh escaped him and not wanting to appear rude he headed toward Frodo’s request for his presence. He approached the hunter who awaited their arrival in lupus. Good day brother. He said in a monotonous voice, his stone expression set upon his face. It was a common reaction when he didn’t want to show the trouble of his mind. He said nothing more sure the male would spout in his cryptic splendour the reason he called upon him shortly.

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