09-14-2010, 02:15 PM
(Thank you! I've never really played wolves, but I was just happy to find a busy RPG)
His song rose and fell in pitch, ensnared by the zephyr and carried into the forest. Slowly it died in his throat, leaving not but an echo for a legacy. It had been a risk to make the call, he knew, but it was a risk he was willing to take. If he had denned down here at the boarder and just waited for others to find him during their patrols, he was more likely to meet hostile aggression for loitering. And that would be counter productive to his cause. Synder lifted his ebony nose into the somersaulting breeze, enjoying the way it toyed with his whiskers and brushed coolly along his long noble pate. His ears stood up, swiveled, funneling in the sounds he prayed would come. And had they? The soft pitter patter of paws, a rustle of bramble. He stepped back a few paces, allowing himself more room not only to see into the lower depths of the forest, but to flee if the need arose. His heart was pounding, his mind was racing, the sound of his own blood hammering in his ears.
He licked his lips nervously, his tongue lolling out in sporadic bursts of panting. Wisps of silver fog unfurled from his maw as hot breath hit the cool autumn evening. Gold eyes, lanterns in the shadows, watched with the vigilance of one marked for death. And then he saw her, a phantom amongst the wood. Soft alabaster fur caught the moonlight as it fell in shards from the meager canopy above as she lingered on the border, ensnaring his utmost attention. An angel had come to pass judgment upon him. He couldn’t help but notice how she smelled like the bones of the earth. It brought solace to his soul and for the first time in many moons, he did not feel so alone. Perhaps he had finally found a place to call home.
She spoke with dulcet tones than both defied and amplified her dominant stance. Synder lowered his head to wither level, ears lightly teased back. Though he was fine example of the timber wolf species, he did not tip the scales of weight, size or length. Above average without being an abnormality. His coat shimmered with the lively iridescence of a pool of water that had somehow captured the stars. “I seek a pack position within Dahlia De Mai, good lady” Synder spoke in even pitches, deep and rumbling as oceans swell, “I bring my ability to hunt, to protect and aid. I also bring my knowledge of healing, if it is needed.” He looked at her without making eye contact, settling his gaze somewhere between nape and wither.
His song rose and fell in pitch, ensnared by the zephyr and carried into the forest. Slowly it died in his throat, leaving not but an echo for a legacy. It had been a risk to make the call, he knew, but it was a risk he was willing to take. If he had denned down here at the boarder and just waited for others to find him during their patrols, he was more likely to meet hostile aggression for loitering. And that would be counter productive to his cause. Synder lifted his ebony nose into the somersaulting breeze, enjoying the way it toyed with his whiskers and brushed coolly along his long noble pate. His ears stood up, swiveled, funneling in the sounds he prayed would come. And had they? The soft pitter patter of paws, a rustle of bramble. He stepped back a few paces, allowing himself more room not only to see into the lower depths of the forest, but to flee if the need arose. His heart was pounding, his mind was racing, the sound of his own blood hammering in his ears.
He licked his lips nervously, his tongue lolling out in sporadic bursts of panting. Wisps of silver fog unfurled from his maw as hot breath hit the cool autumn evening. Gold eyes, lanterns in the shadows, watched with the vigilance of one marked for death. And then he saw her, a phantom amongst the wood. Soft alabaster fur caught the moonlight as it fell in shards from the meager canopy above as she lingered on the border, ensnaring his utmost attention. An angel had come to pass judgment upon him. He couldn’t help but notice how she smelled like the bones of the earth. It brought solace to his soul and for the first time in many moons, he did not feel so alone. Perhaps he had finally found a place to call home.
She spoke with dulcet tones than both defied and amplified her dominant stance. Synder lowered his head to wither level, ears lightly teased back. Though he was fine example of the timber wolf species, he did not tip the scales of weight, size or length. Above average without being an abnormality. His coat shimmered with the lively iridescence of a pool of water that had somehow captured the stars. “I seek a pack position within Dahlia De Mai, good lady” Synder spoke in even pitches, deep and rumbling as oceans swell, “I bring my ability to hunt, to protect and aid. I also bring my knowledge of healing, if it is needed.” He looked at her without making eye contact, settling his gaze somewhere between nape and wither.