12-02-2009, 11:25 AM
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table by alli
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After a rather uneventful patrol, Gabriel had begun making his way south. He turned east when he hit sand, and taken the time to run. It hurt—it hurt more then he expected, with the wound on his leg. Though it was fresh, it was not deep. The much deeper wound in his shoulder, long since scarred over and turned terrible, had been his Achilles heel. After several miles he had to slow, and begun walking the last mile and a half. He was glad to have the time to observe the ocean, and inhaled the salty air along with the cold. Each time he exhaled, his breath rose in a cloud of steam.
No doubt, winter was fast approaching. With this in mind, the Aquila made a mental note to take a trip to Halifax and find himself another blanket. He wished that someone had the ability to tan hides; that skill had skipped a generation. He was not seven yards from his den when a fresh scent caught his attention, one he followed to the source. There, peering into his home, was his mother. Frowning, puzzled as to what had drawn her out so late, he approached loudly, as so not to startle her.
When he was sure she was aware of his presence, he spoke. “Need something?”
No doubt, winter was fast approaching. With this in mind, the Aquila made a mental note to take a trip to Halifax and find himself another blanket. He wished that someone had the ability to tan hides; that skill had skipped a generation. He was not seven yards from his den when a fresh scent caught his attention, one he followed to the source. There, peering into his home, was his mother. Frowning, puzzled as to what had drawn her out so late, he approached loudly, as so not to startle her.
When he was sure she was aware of his presence, he spoke. “Need something?”
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