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ooc:
From the abyss came a light. Not but a flickering thing, dancing in the darkness of its own volition and steadily increasing its shine. Still, the darkness was strong, snuffing out the arms of the radiant entity trying desperately to stave off the darkness. But in her minds eyes, this was not a light bounding with life toward her. It was not a single ray, but a body slowly taking form. Before her weary sights, a shape manifested from the light, both beautiful and frightening to behold, this transformation. Her view changed of the creature and from its side, she beheld the mutation of its ambiguous form.
With baited breath, she watched. From its belly came legs, equal in length, powerful and strong. And as they touched the ground, color bled from the earth onto them, an array of rust and crimson far darker than what she had seen of her reflection. The form continued to mold itself, taking the shape of a muzzle on its front and a tail extended from its rear, long and sturdy as a leg itself. The body was pulled from its compressed state, extending a great deal with painful slowness while gradually filling out with muscle and fur. Her mind cried ‘wolf’ to the manifestation and with recognition came joy, an elated lift to her troubled heart.
She bound for the creature but traveled slowly in the muck of dream. Powerful paws struck the ground in tremendous strides, grasping the amorphous muck with determined claws and tearing it free from beneath her. She urged toward with every ounce of her strength, her body straining to make some progress. The image was retreating. It had taken flight on its muscular legs and just as she, was weighed by dream. But it was always so far, so far out of reach. If she could but see the creatures face she would be happy. She called for it, a name on her tongue she could not hear but knew. It turned slightly, from the light beaconing it onward she was able to catch a glimpse, not of its face, but a single silver eye...
The patter of something moist awakened her. It began delicately, an afternoon sprinkle to encourage the grasses to sprout again before the winter covered them in snow. In a matter of minutes, the gentle shower became a torrent upon the lounging she-wolf as bare to the elements as a tree itself. But at least the towering structures had their leaves to cover their trunks. And what did she have but the drenched pelt about her shoulders? Nothing at all. Already the vibrant pelt had suffered the prelude of the oncoming storm, clinging haphazardly to the female’s dwindling frame.
Through the sheet, she cast her gaze skyward to the overcast of grey and sickly green, flinching as a stray droplet struck her in the eye. When had the rain began, she wondered but asked none. For who would listen? Uncurling from her moist spot, Zynex hurried from the open field and down the rolling hills to the lake. Lining its borders were trees scaling high enough to provide some kind of shelter. She was not picky when shelter was mandatory. She crawled within the hollowed roots of a tree, keeping her muzzle out and alert should a predator come by. She had been fortunate enough not to encounter one while out in the open. Crystal eyes drifted casually along the edge of the lake but a few yards away. From her line of sight she would see the drops of rain as they hit the surface then rippled out into each other. It brought a smile to her face and the sound of the trickling drops soothed her. She pinned her ears forward, absorbing the song whilst she waited for the rain to calm.
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hey :]
Word Count: 464
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
Belle's hooves made sharp sounds on the ground as the pair moved further east. They had passed through Crimson Dreams territory not too long ago, and Dawali's behind was beginning to feel sore from the trek. Perhaps he would walk parts of the journey home, perhaps not. On the horse's back was a large bulk of blankets, a pieced-together oiled leather piece to grant him shelter at night, and other things for camping. The having decided to go east for a few days, he'd brought with him everything he needed, except food. He didn't need food — he had his fishing net with him. Now he was traveling east until he met ocean, eager to tear his mind away from the troubles that haunted him. He was tried of the same scents and the same surroundings, or so he thought. Perhaps what he was really tired of, was himself. Now he traveled to perhaps search himself for a solution. He was not good with confronting social challenges, and especially not when it involved females. Females were unsettling.
Scents came and went, flew past him in thr chilling air as he moved tirelessly in the same direction. Even when passing through Crimson Dreams territory (and trespassing! How unlike him. It had been a thrill, really) he hadn't encountered anyone, but now his nose registered a presence not far away. Hesitating a moment, he wondered whether he should seek her out or not (it was a female, his nose could tell), but decided against. He would continue east, and if he encountered her, so be it. This rain which had soaked him in moments would be unpleasant in the long run, even if he did not usually mind the elements. His mane was heavy from all the water in his long braids; he really did not want a detour now. However, it seemed as if something wanted them to meet, because as he continued straight eastwards her scent grew stronger. The Chief on his horse followed a path that snaked itself between trees, and soon the landscape would change into spears of stone growing out of the ground to cut and injure those who were not careful. But here there was just vegetation and the safety of trees. Belle halted and tediously snaked herself around a large trunk that lay across the path, and as she carried him into a different angle, he noticed the fiery form of a female inside it. Startled, he nudged the horse and gave a sharp sound to order her to halt, and simply sat there a moment to look at her. Finally, he came to his senses. "Hi there. Uh, looking for shelter?" Perhaps he could take a break now, after all. This lake was a nice place to camp, too.
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ooc:
Soothing sounds of the droplets carried away the female’s disease for being cold, wet, and as always, hungry, bringing a sort of comforting veil to allow her to rest. Not often was she permitted this pleasure but in light of the circumstance, there was not much choice but to suffer this vacation and turn her mind to better things as the rain continued to pound on her refuge. Oddly enough, the patter grew louder, escalating to sound stomps on the earthen floor and increased in volume, enough so to disturb her doze and bring her back to the water present. The rhythm of the rain had not changed she noted, yet still the volume of the pounding grew louder until she felt the earth tremble beneath her lain muzzle.
Zynex looked out through the sheets, eyes wide with alarm as the torrents began to move unnaturally, bending as a shadow parted from them and came to stand nigh of her escape from the rain. A towering figure stood towards the entrance, shining with not one, but two pairs of eyes, one creature on top the other. Was she dreaming? Was this some trick her mind concocted to show her to instill fear? In the waning light, she thought to have seen something out of place. A hoofed animal with a lupine on its back, astride it as confidently as the humans of the past would their mighty animals. But this was a wolf! But calling him so was more than she could stay.
The she-wolf recoiled further into her hole, keeping her eyes on the formidable figures of both the curse wolf and his steed. What twist of nature allowed this unnatural order, riding on the back of an animal to be eaten? Her ears perked up as the braided wolf spoke above the pouring rain, inquiring her intentions. The tip of her nose poked from within her hole, twitching frequently as it was spat on. She answered with a quiet, “Yes.”
Words: 332
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Word Count: 322
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
A female in a log. Now, he could understand the need for shelter. He did not mind, but it would vary from one to another where the line for being comfortable was drawn. Now, she would not have appeared as strange to him if she had reacted in a way he was used to; conversation. Yet this female seemed shy, and it calmed him. He was not always the most comfortable around that gender. Smiling, Dawali jumped down from Belle and bent to look closer at the female in the log. Perhaps she would not be so afraid (for she did seem afraid, to him) if she could see his face better. Now on the ground, Dawali unfastened the great piece of leather he used for camping from the horse's back, held the big, bulking and heavy thing under his arm, and bent down to her. "My name's Dawali. I've got some shelter I can set up, and the means for a fire. Care to join me?" Smiling, he lingered there for a moment before he rose and started to slowly move in direction of a space big enough to make their little tent-like structure. One tree had the perfect branch for fastening the other pieces of wood he would use to build it. Whipping out his stone knife, he started working immediately, collecting semi-thick and long sticks from the forest floor. He would use it to build a leaning skeleton, and dress it in the leathers he had brought. Then, they would be safe from the rain, and could build a fire. Having found enough sticks to start with, he walked over to the horse to find the rope he had brought. He was — as the scouts of the human world would have said — always prepared. Sitting down by the log the female had used as shelted for the rain, he started lashing the sticks together, fingers working fast and automated.
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ooc:
The intensity of the rain hadn’t lessened in the span of a few moments since seeing the walking wolf and his animal. It only increased, coming down no longer in sheets but whipping waves as the sky unleashed its fury upon the earth. The she-wolf drew her nose further in, eyes still locked into the braided wolf as he dismounted and approached her, depressing himself to her level and named himself. He carried a soft smile, warm and welcoming. For a moment his mutation was ignored as she beheld not ill hidden intent in his eyes, but genuine sincerity not often displayed to her. He moved back, carrying something as he ventured further out into the rain and became working on something strange.
He claimed to have brought shelter with him. Zynex tilted her head from within her hole. Was that possible? The working of the walking wolves never ceased to bother and amaze her. They were of a class all their own, more fitted for the complex tasks they constructed for themselves and broad range of combat. They was perhaps not limit to their potential. She noted as Dawali carried down many things from his steed, collecting wood from the forest floor and bringing it back to her meager refuge. She poked her head out again, authentically curious for what he was doing. The question lingered on her tongue but did not reach any ears. Her lips were clasped as she watched with silent awe the intricate workings of his slender digits. She briefly looked down at her own appendages, wide and latched together with tough flesh and work pads. The boots muddied by both her treks and rain.
“Zynex,” she offered after some time, the processor of her mind so overwhelmed with what she was seeing she hadn’t yet remembered to give herself a title. And still as she began to recall what was spoken, the shock on her face could not be withheld. “Fire?” She questioned. “Can you really create it at your will?” Was there truly nothing these lupine walkers could do? She was both eager to know and reluctant to be given something else to be envy of about them. Yet in the recesses of her mind, she felt fear. Fear that back in her distant land her sibling had learned of the many things she could do as a walker and would be using it against her should the exiled heir try to return. This was simply not good at all…
Starlit eyes peered again out to the braided male, still at work with his…tools. Her sights drifted to the wood as he crafted it into something more than a fallen branch. “How..are you able to do this?”
Word Count: 454
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Sorry for the wait, have been away for holiday :]
Word Count: 322 - SoSuWriMo
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
She seemed to be a shy thing, and while he sat there there was a moment of silence, though she seemed interested enough in what was happening. Finally, there came a word from her, and given that it was not a word he knew, he understood it as he name. Now, he looked up from the lashings performed by his hands, though they kept going on their own, having done it many times over in his lifetime. He gave her a smile as he replied. "Nice to meet you." Judging by the look on her face, what he was doign was alien to her. Before he arrived in these lands he had not known that there were wolves that did not know these things; so naturally had it felt in his lifetime in the large AniWaya tribe. But when he came here in a scouting party that later became the little branch of a tribe he now led, he met many strange and quite... different individuals. Most of them did not do things the way he did. Some, like Ember, scavenged the remains of human civilization for tools and weapons, and some discarded both them and the things they could do with their own shifted form. Some could not even shift! But, he had lived here a long time now, and he knew that face and what it meant. He was used to it.
His assumptions were confirmed as she presented him with a question, and now he smiled and lifted his muzzle to look up towards the sky. The rain whipped his face: it was quite fierce now. Soon it would be uncomfortable even for him, and he was glad he had stopped here to make his little shelter. He gave a wry chucle and looked back at the femme, replying in a dry voice with half a smile on his lips. "I can, but I don't know if this rain will let me." If it continued to rain virtually sideways, it would be hard to simply raise the shelter, let alone build a fire. But, first things first.
Several branches and sticks made a ribcage of wood, forming solid squares of a size of maybe an upper arm's length on each side. It would be the foundation of the roof of the shelter. Getting up, she asked him another thing, and he shrugged as he went over to a suitable tree he had already spotted. Soon his fingers were lashing his little construction to the tree's trunk, and he replied simultaneously, looking at her as he did so. "My father and uncles taught me these techniques. It's really quite simple; first I build this frame, and then I just put the skins over it so I have a sort of roof. Beats a log, certainly." He winked, clearly making a joke, before looking back at what he was doing. If he was lucky, the rope might be just long enough to make it work. If not, he would have to improvise.
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From within her hole, the rust hued female frowned…the male’s sense of humor not taken will but rather to heart. Was that some jest on her choice of lodging at her expense? She exhibited her displeasure quite soundly from her rain drenched nostrils, not finding humor in what he spoke at all. What was wrong with her log? It would make due she didn’t have the capabilities, let alone skill to craft as he did. She turned her nose heavenward, carefully drawing herself from her refuge and stepped into the torrent of earthbound tears. Her brows were still knotted tightly in a frown.
In silence, she continued to observe his craft, skulking with head level to the ground as she drew near to inspect. To the best of her abilities, she scented the damp wood, drifted her nose from the branches then too the brujo herself. Her eye lingered on the intricate twining of his mane and the trinkets laced within, but wild and exotic all the same. She felt her own ridge ruffle with mild displeasure but futile were her efforts to inflate her stature as the rain continued to pelt the both of them. Zynex continued to settle for silence, ceasing her scrutinizing of the male and his work. “Interesting…” she voice against reason. Stepping delicately, she came adjacent to Dawali claiming a seat nigh the spot that would be used to construct the shelter.
But her silence be damned. Many a question circulated through the dame’s head as her sight again drifted to the braids that adorned his mane. So much twisting and coiling, a weaving she could not fathom to understand in her present mind. But still…she had to ask. “What has happened to your mane? It looks…interesting.” Her dome cocked left, intrigue plain across her muzzle as was the water that dripped from her snout. “Do…all-“ What had Geneva called them…”-Luperci…are they able to do this?”
Word Count: 321
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Word Count: 646 - SoSuWriMo
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
He looked up as sounds of displeasure came from her, but he did no quite understand what he might have done to make her annoyed. Was it his joke? Perhaps. Sometimes strangers misunderstood each other. Studying her for a short moment he gave himself a mental shrug and continued his work in silence, though no sign was given her on the outside. If she wished to behave in a strange manner towards someone who offered her shelter and the warmth of a fire, it was not his business. Though, if she did continue to display her displeasure, he would certainly ask her for an explanation. Leaving the subject be, he let his eyes stay on the work he was doing. The rope he had brought along proved just long enough for him to finish his frame without having to cut it into individual pieces for individual lashings, and he was glad. Every time he cut rope he felt a little sting inside of him, because he knew how much time it took to make them, even if they were such ordinary things. He had made many a rope that was available for use in the stables, and many for himself. His tongue came out of his mouth and the tip twisted upwards a little as he concentrated on getting that last knot right; he had only a few inches to tie it on, and his fingers were growing cold from the inhospitable weather. When he finished, he glanced at the femme, who had moved to sit closer to him, and who was studying him in silence. The frame now fastened properly to the vegetation around, he rolled out the big mat of skins over it, making a solid roof with space for two. Smiling, he looked at his new acquaintance. "Like it?" Either way, he was quite satisfied.
He sat a moment, and just as he had decided to get up and start to work on a fire she spoke to him, and now he looked at her. Indeed, it was as if he had thought. She had perhaps never really seen a shifted person in action before, not like this; not one who lived like this and in a way that was what some would call "unnatural". At least, this was the word many had used to describe him when he had traveled, and some visitors to the tribe seemed to share this opinion. Unnatural or not, Dawali believed it was not unnatural to want to improve one's comfort, and he gladly accepted the gift of hands — and was not afraid to wield it. Smiling, one hand grabbed a braid and pulled it forward and towards her, so she could see it better. "It is part decoration, part display of rank and belonging. I have braided them and decorated them with my hands, look — you can see that it is a normal mane, but woven." Pausing, he searched for a moment, and found one braid with eagle feathers attached to it. "These feathers, for example, serve a purpose; they tell my tribesmembers that I am their Chief. I haven't seen others do this outside of our tribe, but many Luperci tend to their manes and decorate them with things, though not all do that." Vanity came in many forms. For one without hands it might be to frequently bathe and care for their pelts — but with hands came so many opportunities, including new ways to tend to one's looks. Now, the Kalona tossed the braid back again, and it flew lightly to land among its many friends at the back of him. They were heavy with the rain, but he did not mind it. It wasn't cold; it was isolating.
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Decoration…a display. Momentarily the female was beside herself in wonder for the woven mane. A single entity of the mass was brought to her attention as it was exhibited in dexterous paws…rather hands. Disregarding the constructed hut for a spell, she allowed her vision to be overwhelmed by the braided hair, crafted with the accents of feathers. A display of ranking, Dawali had mentioned as easily as if it were some common occurrence. And without a doubt, she believed this to be true, for what purpose did this elaborate construction of main show if not to point some rank or title? But none the less, they were beautiful to behold even dampened and weighed by the rain. “I see…” she uttered softly, her voice nearly overtaken by the patter of rain. “They are…nice.” Her compendium of complimentary words limited, she spoke of only what she knew to fit her intention; praise and admiration, even if it was to a two-legged walker, Luperci…she was reminded again.
But her intrigue was drawn again to the male’s words. Her immediate recollection of his title coursed an unpleasant chill down her spine as understanding dawned. “Chief,” she uttered, not in questioned but in recognition of the word. It equated to that of a King, a Tyrant, and Alpha, a Leader to whom she had acted so relaxed about and had not considered there was something more to his stature. Zynex averted her eyes hastily, shimmying from the Leader but a few inches to distance herself. “My apologies,” she offered sincerely though her head would not bow. The teachings of the Matriarchal pack still exhibited in the subtle defiance to the opposing gender, and yet she was not beneath display of some respect to his rank. “I didn’t mean to intrude onto your space…” And still the intensity of her voice declined, though her form remained hard, rigid…deathly calm. “Perhaps I should have asked beforehand…”
An ideal route to take in introduction, but how would she have known to call him out on his prestige ranking? All Luperci were odd to her, the few she had met and those that resided in her original pack. Their ways were strange to her, taking on something beyond he lupine limitations and collaborating something dark and fantastic to her mind as one and the same. It was…frightening, but very much intriguing. And the envy that settled in her heart began to grow. The lights of her eyes hardened, her form unflinching even as a stray bolt shot across the sky and shook the earth with a terrible snarl.
Word Count: 430
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Word Count: 875 - SoSuWriMo
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
The femme was either shy or weird, or a combination of both. Perhaps intimidated; there was no telling by her behavior. But she was not hostile though her furs had bristled at one point of their encounter. His gaze flew to study her as he worked but he said nothing, though when she complimented him on his decorations he looked up at her openly and gave a small smile, a polite smile. He did not really understand why some seemed to want to compliment his braids, for to him it was just normal dress code to wear them, as were the feathers and beads, though he could easily understand that to some they looked foreign. He had felt the same when he had seen how many there were of them here, who did not braid or bead their manes at all. It had been strange at first, but he had come to understand that what he had in his mane, they put in their stance. It was all the same, but in different realms altogether. "Thank you." His voice was hopefully not as foreign to her as the rest of him, as it was quite warm and friendly, and accopmanied by a small smile. Sure, there was a hint of authority deep in his throat, but this was not the part of his voice that dominated.
When she repeated the name of his rank, the Kalona gave a mental sigh at himself. Why had he even mentioned it? He did not like formalities, not when they were not necessary. Dawali was not this femme's leader, and he was not out on a diplomatic mission, and thus there was no need for her to address him formally at all. He gave a mental cringe as she apologized and removed herself from him, mentally, and an inch or so in the physical realm. Still though, this femme was not behaving meekly, not like a beaten deer in a pit of lions, and he appreciated that. He did not like it when submission robbed someone of their identity. He remembered well some joiners who bowed and scraped as if he was a god or king, but he was neither. He was just a wolf like them, but with many more worries and many, many more duties. For that, perhaps, he deserved their respect, but he did not want it in that form. He did not want to be feared, but looked up to, and respected for his justness and wisdom (though compared to the elders of the iriginal tribe, he had no wisdom at all). He replied whilst his eyes remained on the work his figners were doing, though his voice was not as unattentive as his gaze. "There is no need for apologies or permissions. I am not your Chief, and you are not on my land. Out here, you and I are equal."
The storm around them had worsened, and just as he decided to ask her who she actually did belong with (for there was a scent on her that he should recognize, was there not?), a bolt of lightning shook the skies around them. It lit up the sky, and the male started and looked upwards, his ears twitching and noticing Belle's nervous whinnies in the background. Getting up, he decided it would be best if he checked on her, thinking to make sure she was tied well to a tree so she would not panic and run away. How oblivious was he of trees and the danger they served in weather such as this. He hastily mumbled an "excuse me" to Zynex as he got up, noticing for a moment that she had not stirred at all. Perhaps she was used to this weather, or enjoyed it. Perhaps to her, lightning was a good sign, but for Dawali's beliefs it was not. With long strides he came over to the horse, calmed her with some soothing words and secured the knot which fastened her reins to the tree. Quickly unpacking a large blanket from the packs on her back, he threw it over her and took the containers with him to the shelter. She would be fine - she was a brave horse - but he did not want his items to get wet, and there was no room for Belle in his little shelter. Sitting back down under the leather roof, he threw the packs into the corner where the tree grew out of the ground, but only after retrieving two rocks from it. He intended to make a fire, but first he looked at the ground aronud them. There was no twig or little piece of wood or dead plant that was not soggy, and this definetely presented a problem. Thinking, Dawali threw their little encounter back into small-talk, though his eyes searched their surroundings for anything that might help his plan along. "So, what brings you around here?" He didn't have to elaborate; it was obvious that she was a stranger to this place, given her somewhat unconventional way around him. Even if others that had lived here a long time might find him strange, none acted such as this one. She would fit in eventually though, he was certain.
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And then came the storm. What seemed a trickle developed into an all out wrath of the sky. The thunder that but a moment before meant nothing to the female, suddenly struck her with fear for the rage to come. Matted fur rose uncomfortably as the rolling roars deafened her ears and without second thought she rose and hurried into the shelter constructed. To took a moment to heed the Chief’s words, offering enough respect for him to not look upon him as an Alpha, but as an equal as he had portrayed but a moment before. But in her eyes, he still walked upon two-legs, and that was not a prejudice to be rid of so easily. But she would put this aside for now.
And again they fell into small-talk, in passing to break the pause of conversation. The drenched female glanced from beneath her matted mane, the short tresses clinging to her crown and in front of her eyes. The overgrowth apparent. She sniffled, the tip of her muzzle twitch with an inkling to sneeze but snuffed. “I…was…am,” she breathed a moment, calming than many responses she sought to give at once. “I am looking for a home…since I was exiled from mine.” Involuntarily her eyes drifted to the hole beneath the fallen log. Some home what would have made, its coverage poor and she was sure to make herself sick in the end. She had lived upon the land for a while since her exile, but times were becoming desperate…and it was painfully aware that she would not be able to continue on like this. In her mind, she had found a settlement within the Valley, but for the time…it was not ‘home’.
But it was not to be dwelled upon. Zynex lifted her muzzle in regard to Dawali, brows furrowing slightly as if trying to distinguish his form from that of the torrential rains. “What of you?” she offered in contest. “You know your way around…this is obvious. But why ‘here’? Scouting?”
Words: 337
I'm thinking about something... Be quiet when I talk. I'm just wandering |
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Word Count: 607 - SoSuWriMo
come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops
She seemed to struggle with her words, but Dawali waited patiently. While this storm laster, while it threw its rage at the forest floor — including their little shelter — he would have her company only. He was satisfied with this; it was much better than being alone. All they could do was to wait until the storm grew weaker, and so that was what he intended to do. Thus, they had all the time in the world to think and rethink their words. When she finally did speak, Dawali was slightly surprised. She had been kicked out, even? This, he thought, was strange. She was quite polite, evnen if strange, and chances were she had not been strange to the ones she had lived with, as she was strange to him. He was silent for a moment, but concluded that she presented no threat to him. If she had been exiled due to her actions, such as violent deeds or something else that was unacceptable to them, it was not his business. Given her form he knew he could have the upper hand of the situation quite quickly if she tried any funny stuff, and so he relaxed. It was not because he thought she was capable of doing these things that his mind went to them, but it was his instincts. He had a need to always have an overview of the situation he was in, and when she offered a new element he had to take it into consideration. No, he believed she was quite safe, but his mind could not help itself but to do it anyway. It wasn't like it asked for his permission. "I see." He hesitated and wondered about asking about the reason for her being thrown out, but let the subject be. Instead, perhaps he could inform her on the packs around here. "Well, there are numerous packs in the area, perhaps there is a home for you in any of those. My tribe lies to the west, but closer to us right now is Crimson Dreams. To the east lies Cour des Miracles, a pack of hybrids and dogs. In the north is Dahlia de Mai, and in the north-east lies Phoenix Valley and Inferni. Inferni takes coyotes only, I believe, and they are rumored not to look too fondly upon wolves in general." That about summed up the total of his knowledge, and he discovered that it was full of holes. How inconvenient. Still, though, he did know a little more, for example on the individuals of some of the tribes, but it was still quite little. He should perhaps travel more and meet with some of them, to update his own information.
She promted him, and he almost felt uncomfortable enough to let it show. Why was he here? Well.. he had no good reason to be here, other than for the sake of not being in AniWaya. He sighed at himself, mentally. What an old fool, he was. "I decided to simply travel a little. I have not gone too far in this direction, so I thought I would go and see what it was like." Not to fish — no, no. This was not his goal at all, but at that thought he was remembered of Ember, and now he truly was uncomfortable. His eyes shifted a couple of times before he could let the thought go, and then he sat as he had done before again. Maybe he was just a coward who was running from it all, if only for a couple of days. Who knew? He certainly had no idea what drove him lately.
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