12-15-2007, 02:26 AM
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Despite the chilly air that easily pierced through the warmest of winter coats, it was hardly enough to prevent Valentine from further surveying Jaded Shadows. From the tall, snow-covered boughs of the evergreen and spruce that mixed in with the naked trees to the dips and cracks within the very squat mountain itself, he had taken quite a liking to the different scenery. Sure, it wasn't the seaside, but from a certain point he could easily see over the staggering treetops and find the grey waves of the ocean. Moving along with the snow to crunch underneath his feet, he had hardly seen hide or hair of anyone familiar; mostly a few who resembled someone else. There were a share of dark-haired wolves to be found within the very territory itself, and as he soon discovered, those who resembled Fatin as well.
As he came over the crest of a sloping foothill, nearing the clearing where the pack had neatly made a woodshed and cooking pit (as he saw them to be, regardless of their true purpose), he thought he saw Fatin with just another shawl out for a stroll. But things were a little off here and there—most importantly, where had those fiery red locks gone to!?—and he soon made an obvious connection that it wasn't her. Perhaps saying that Jaded Shadows was family had been previously thought to be too broad; it was apparently, without question, truly almost all blood family. Once he was within a reasonable proximity to say hello, it was the first thing that he did just short of the pit and shed. “Ah, you've got the right idea there with the shawl and all,” then again, hellos were a bit overrated, “but at least it isn't as horribly cold as it was a couple of days ago. Kind of nice outside today, wouldn't you agree?”
Despite the chilly air that easily pierced through the warmest of winter coats, it was hardly enough to prevent Valentine from further surveying Jaded Shadows. From the tall, snow-covered boughs of the evergreen and spruce that mixed in with the naked trees to the dips and cracks within the very squat mountain itself, he had taken quite a liking to the different scenery. Sure, it wasn't the seaside, but from a certain point he could easily see over the staggering treetops and find the grey waves of the ocean. Moving along with the snow to crunch underneath his feet, he had hardly seen hide or hair of anyone familiar; mostly a few who resembled someone else. There were a share of dark-haired wolves to be found within the very territory itself, and as he soon discovered, those who resembled Fatin as well.
As he came over the crest of a sloping foothill, nearing the clearing where the pack had neatly made a woodshed and cooking pit (as he saw them to be, regardless of their true purpose), he thought he saw Fatin with just another shawl out for a stroll. But things were a little off here and there—most importantly, where had those fiery red locks gone to!?—and he soon made an obvious connection that it wasn't her. Perhaps saying that Jaded Shadows was family had been previously thought to be too broad; it was apparently, without question, truly almost all blood family. Once he was within a reasonable proximity to say hello, it was the first thing that he did just short of the pit and shed. “Ah, you've got the right idea there with the shawl and all,” then again, hellos were a bit overrated, “but at least it isn't as horribly cold as it was a couple of days ago. Kind of nice outside today, wouldn't you agree?”