It rained, and rained again. The clouds never seemed to part, and the sun was all but lost forever behind their veil. Things had changed, but now a routine was forming. It felt good, one thing after another until the day was done and starting all over again in the rebirth of another clouded and shadowed day. Mornings of chores, afternoons of finding company or indulging in the search of a hobby. Heath like it, the simplicity of it. The comfort was welcomed after months (though they seemed each a year long) of being alone. He hadn’t been raised outside of a pack, and so the nature of it came to him easily.
To escape the rain the male had thought of the city, its crumbling buildings a haven of sorts. As the male walked past the broken windows of a bottle filled shop he remembered it as a place of vice, but he was sure he could fine something other then the booze that he had craved. He had never thought it an addiction, but as he thought back on it the hybrid began to crave the taste and the feeling, a craving that spoke of a necessity. The male didn’t want to need anything, not in that way. Depending on it, he wanted to be stronger then that.
The honey eyed male made his way to the center, where the large stone building sat. Peaceful eyes looked over the giants that guarded the entrance. Standing before the large stair case Heath remembered the first time he had ventured here. He remembered it briefly, before looking closely at the statues. The massive lions that roared before the building of books were worn by time and weather, their features no longer sharp and vicious. The male could have laughed at their pathetic attempt to scare off those that, what? Wished to steal their books? The coy male grinned, and petted one on its head, knowing that they wouldn’t stop him.
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