01-21-2008, 01:53 PM
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Backdated the 19th, and all are welcome—preferably for someone I haven’t had a thread with before or at least in a long time. He wondered how many cans would be enough. Two? Phoenix had never really used paint before and didn’t know how much surface area a gallon can could cover. Not that he needed much—he merely wanted to write the names of just over a dozen wolves on a cave wall, as well as their paw prints. Two would probably be enough, and if he needed more he could always come back now that he knew were there was a good stash of the stuff. He picked out a can of yellow and a can of bright blue and left the garage, a can in each hand. As much as he wanted to shift back to his four-legged form and return home sooner he had no way of carrying these cans without hands. He had no reason to be impatient though, since they probably wouldn’t be able to use the paint until the evening, after everyone had gathered in the pack den for the night. Living with everybody was a new and different experience, but Phoenix was glad for the chance to get to know everybody in his extended family better. He still had doubts about his capability as a leader but having a competent, close pack like Storm made his job so much easier. Sighing, Phoenix began the long trek home, avoiding the hard cement on the sidewalks and staying on the lawns where he could, the asphalt of the streets where he couldn’t. Phoenix chuckled as he looked at each can again. Normally he preferred to eschew human things, but lately he had been acting more receptive to their wares. He was practicing regularly with a bow and arrows in the hopes of mastering a new hunting style, and now he even had a tattoo on his left arm—Storm’s symbol. Perhaps he was getting more artistic in his old age, Who knew? |