12-30-2007, 08:14 PM
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Welcome to Souls! You picked the right pack. Phoenix collects orphans like some people collect comic books. Phoenix had been four and a half months when he had finally decided his parents weren't coming back. Of course, he didn't believe they had willingly abandoned him--times were hard because of the drought, and they had seven mouths to feed. They had always given him and his litter mates all the love and affection they could, never showing signs of being the kinds of wolves who would so callously leave their children to die. But, in the end, Phoenix had ended up alone and scared, forced to fend for himself. He had probably used up a lifetime worth's allotment of miracles throughout his five months living the solitary life, yet here he stood, against all odds. Here he stood, indeed. He was now the father of children of his own and the alpha of the oldest pack in the Bleeding Souls valley. Both were major responsibilities that he took with the utmost seriousness. He would not fail them, as his parents had failed him. So he remained vigilant at the borders, looking out for intruders and hoping against hope that his lost daughter would return to them someday. He almost missed the puppy's yips, but fortunately a breeze carried the call a bit farther and right into a waiting ear. For a second Phoenix thought it was his imagination, but that was enough for the hopeful father to lower his bow and retrieve his arrow before rushing off towards the source of the sound. Phoenix ran as fast as he could on two legs, hoping to find his Firefly at the border and fully prepared to use his new weapon on the bastard who had kidnapped her, if he was still around. Instead he came across another small puppy, much too dark to be his daughter. Still, the sight tugged at the male's heart. It was an all-too-familiar sight, and he hoped that if Firefly was still alove out there she was at least being taken care of by her captor, rather than having been left to die or... no, he didn't want to even consider that. "Hey there, kid," he said as he sat down beside the young child. He hoped that he wasn't too frightening a site, an eight-and-a-half-feet dark brown male with scars and markings over his body and a human weapon in one hand. Even his voice was scratchy and harsh, though he tried to soften it to a comforting tone. "Where're your parents?" Do y'know?" |