[aw] and it goes like this

Levent Kartal · 09-05-2012, 08:53 AM

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Whee, have a grieving Turk! And I might pop into your Trent pony-thread with Skoll if no one else does, unless you don't want to deal with me twice, haha.

He’d wanted to get away from it all, to travel miles and miles and leave his past and his grief far behind him. He’d wanted to walk on water and get back to his homeland. He’d wanted terribly to just give up and die, and he’d reached a compromise when he saw the great skyscrapers of the city where he’d scavenged for goods countless times.

Levent Kartal lay amongst junk in the back of the store, his scrawny arms flopped at random angles and his legs propped up on the edge of a chair. It might have been comical if not for how ragged he looked, his shirt torn open by brambles in his haste to leave the pack lands and his fur matted to reflect his emotions. A tattered tome lifted and dropped with the motion of his chest, and his satchel served as a pillow. Nestled in the crook of his neck was a ball of white fur—one that unraveled when the wind stirred, long tail lashing with agitation as yellow eyes reflected the light from outside.

The cat hissed, and his jaws gaped menacingly as he drank in the scent from outside the dilapidated store. Looking more properly like a small wolf itself, he abandoned his sleeping charge and loped for the broken window and for the dangerous canine hovering on the other side.

“Leave,” snarled the feline in a wolf’s speech, fur puffed up, but there was a low groan from the bed of junk as the luperci shifted. Immediately, Wilson’s posture changed, and he glanced worriedly and protectively over his shoulder, where Lev woke and asked something incoherent in Turkish (incoherent because he was addressing someone who wouldn’t be here, not the language itself).

#00+

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