Everything changes, from memories to new faces

Davyn Nefae · 12-26-2010, 02:42 AM

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gardenia grove, dated the first of January...word count 342

Davyn stepped carefully through the snow, listening to it crunch. He glanced around, not really recognizing the area as one he had explored before, but that was alright. New area, new stories. This place smelled dimly of a sweet scent that Davyn identified as gardenia. He grimaced; it was not exactly his favorite scent, and it clung to his fur cloyingly. He shook his head, trying to get the scent out of his nose, and failing rather horrifically...Davyn paused, forgetting the scent caught in his nose, as he noticed odd boxes standing at intervals. In his lupus form, he nosed gently at the corner, then jumped back, seeing bees sound asleep in the boxes. He backed up, eyes wide, then laughed at his antics. The cold had sent them into hibernation, and thus they posed no danger to him.

In the days past, Davyn had worked diligently at his den, only taking breaks to eat and scavenge for materials and trinkets to fill his new home with. So far, he had found a brilliant journal in Halifax, and an old fashioned fountain pen that still had plenty of ink, though it was hard to keep the ink from freezing up when he was writing. He had managed to find a pack, also, and in that he carried around the journal and pen. His next task was to find some suitable wood to make his charcoal sticks. If one had come across the male wolf at any time, one would realize that the pack literally NEVER left his side.

Davyn sat down in the snow, setting the pack aside just long enough to change to Optime, so that he could easily grip the pen in his paw. A poem had come to mind, and in a graceful script, he scratched the words carefully onto the first blank page he found in the journal.

Walking through the world, with nothing to tell nothing to be told, everything changes, from memories to new faces. Even as days fade to gray, the same faces never stay...

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