10-29-2007, 12:04 PM
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| As the small hours gave one final, juddering choke and lurched itself into the high pink morning, Tamerlane rested his large hands on his trim and hollow waist and paused in step to look over the Storm territory. It stretched before him for miles, beautiful and wild, twinkling under the fierce whiteness of the early sun and disappearing from his line of sight as he turned from it and headed away. It was perhaps a tribute to the territory that he now walked away from it. It was home enough, it seemed, to be considered for a return at the end of the day. But the rangy Luperci was a traveller, and always would be even if he spent the remainder of his life standing still, and the vast lands of Bleeding Souls would become more and more known to him as the days dragged themselves by. They were his acquaintance, and his aim was to have them develop into his friend and enemy. A long-suffering partner. The jagged grey structure that touched the sky and plunged into the clouds was visible by the evening. Tamerlane ran a dirty hand over his skull and headed towards it, grey-black eyes taking in every distant inch, and turning towards the owner of the silhouette upon the drawbridge. Nearest to him was a child. It was a coyote (at least mostly so), and male; though still at the early age when androgyny was clear in the child's earthy fur. Tamerlane's sharp gaze soon noticed the sheer coldness in the child's baby blues, and it was directed at the form of a wolf, bowed and slender like a willow forced into submission by an unyielding storm. The young wolf had cream fur that shone gold in the blood-soaked sunset, and as both strangers were in the path he took, Tamerlane said what is the name of that penitentiary? his long stride slowing as he turned a soft gaze towards both dejected creatures. |