bottle of red, bottle of white

[Razekiel Lykoi]

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"I've been around, man," Razekiel began, puffing a moment at the tobacco as he sorted his thoughts, unsure what to bring to light first. He'd never led a pack, no, nor had he ever had reason or inspiration to; Razekiel had always thought himself a follower rather than a leader, but he did not exactly 'follow' in line with what was considered the norm anywhere he went. His beliefs were simply too unique to simply stand idly by while the coyote pretended to be someone he wasn't for the sake of membership in a pack; thus, he had come to decide perhaps he needed to take leadership into his own hands for once. He did not think himself incapable, after all.

"Been part of a lot of of things," he said, straw eyes sliding to the side to notice the small songbird hopping about on his shoulder; as if completely accustomed to such a thing, the coy raised a finger and gently scratched at its little black-capped head, his gaze returning to the lake water as he further browsed his thoughts. "Grew up in Inferni, my old lady was the leader... When I came back last year, she and my brother were still headin' the fort, man. I cruised that channel for a while, then I got blitzed in a snowstorm a few months ago up in the mountains."

Noticing a rather blasé look on the Patriarch's face pointed at him, Razekiel gurgled a laugh and organized his thoughts further. "What I'm tryin' to say, man, is that I've called lots of places home since the sun birthed me on this land, you dig? Inferni, Juniper Peace, Aube de Musique... and then I spent 'lotta time by myself soakin' in the Great Mother in all her glory, man, it was wonderful. I've never led a soul, man, but I'm thinkin' maybe it's finally time I stop lettin' myself be a follower, yeah?"