the run around

Tanka · 11-03-2011, 11:15 AM

Form: Optime
"Hair" Color: Goldenrod

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There was a pack closer to his own than he would have assumed. Tanka knew nothing of the history of the lands he walked, everything was essentially new. Even the lay of the land, aside from the general, was foreign enough. Tanka was only half interested in learning. It was a necessity - not an interest of his. But that day, at least, he'd decided to wander outside of his own.

The fence had meant nothing more than 'find a way through' to him. Human structures, however flimsy, to keep things like him out didn't quite register in their purpose with Tanka. They said that he was not permitted to do what he'd come to do and simply it's meaning was ignored as if oblivious with Tanka. So, he'd slipped through and he was greeted by a forest - pleasant and strangely clean. He'd wandered until the scents of another pack grew detectable. He was still quite a ways away, he could tell, but found it unfavorable all the same and relocated closer to home.

There he was, pausing to examine a small fern plant as the dotted sunlight filtered through the tops of the trees. His hair was currently a goldenrod - but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Tanka pondered the warm shades of fall as he toyed absently, his mind wandering, with the small plant.

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Ephraim Fisher · 11-03-2011, 01:06 PM

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Eeeh this post sucks but at least you didn't have to wait? xD /+2

Ephraim was in high spirits as he padded back to AniWaya, keeping to four legs for swift travel. He’d had a wonderful time visiting Sky, but once again he’d postponed deciding whether or not he’d stay in his current pack or Cercatori d’Arte. After all, he wasn’t sure what the Tribe would be like once everything returned to normal—if it did indeed. The thought of the outside pack’s current occupation of the territory as well as the memories of the Guardians’ cruel glances made his dark fur bristle.

But, even if he had no real “home,” it wasn’t strange for the tundra-born hybrid to look out for himself secluded from society. Roaming came naturally to him, and until the dreams made it necessary to settle down, that is what he’d do.

It was odd, really, how few dreams he’d had since coming to Nova Scotia. The thought gave him pause for a moment, even as he found a way through the fences around Serena Reserve. The dirty-aqua poncho around his neck caught on one of the wire hooks, and he fought for a moment against it, without the advantages of dexterous luperci hands. The nuisance was enough to bring his mind away from the dreams, and he took some time to shift into a two-legged form as he wandered deeper into the forest.

The scent of a pack wolf—not one of the Tribe—reached his keen nose and gave him pause. The eunuch recognized the scent as belonging to one of the two packs that had raided AniWaya, though he couldn’t be bothered to differentiate from them. Frowning, he wondered if this one was coming or going, and he ambled easily in that direction.

He was eventually rewarded by the sight of a silvery-white dog, though not a breed he recognized from the arctic. The other luperci—young, he realized with a gleeful grin—was messing thoughtfully with a fern. Oddly enough, his spiky mane was a shocking shade of goldenrod, distinct enough from the rest of his pelt to be artificial. Ephraim, who knew his way around plants for herbal tea but not for dying, was intrigued.

And he sauntered up to the yearling with the boldness only a fool could produce. “Hello there, boy,” the eunuch greeted with a friendly grin. “You’re a bit far away from the rest of your pack, aren’t you?” His expression remained unassuming, almost stupid, though behind his brown eyes the gears were turning.

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