06-30-2009, 03:04 AM
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| http://digital-bonsai.com/katew/rp/kae/kae_disorder.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat;"> I have no idea where these walls actually are inside of Inferni. XD Oi. The coyote had been here nearly three weeks, and she still had yet to thoroughly inspect all of Inferni's territory. Her tail swished as she walked, ambling lazily across their grassy plains. The lands were still foreign to her; she supposed it was the long time she'd spent on their smaller former territory that had made them so familiar, but now they were little more than sooty, charred remnants of what had once been. By the time that place turned green again, she'd long be a pile of bones, well on her way to complete nothingness. The coyote made her way forth, passing a rocky outcropping on her left and keeping to the well-worn trails that her clan-mates had carved through the tall grasses. Before long, an unfamiliar scent caught her nose, and she picked up the pace, heading for its source. It was a stranger, clearly a member of the clan but unknown to her. The hybrid had become far more social than in her earliest days, where she could remember long periods of months where she did not utter so much as a single friendly word to another living being. Those days were over, and in the lengthy periods of time in which she hadn't encountered a soul on her journeys, she actually found herself wanting canine company, which was a jarring, strange thing to the hybrid. She hadn't particularly enjoyed that feeling, but she knew with age came dependence on others, and in the future she would need her clan to survive. It would be their whim which determined her life. The hybrid came across a series of derelict walls, remnants of human structures, perhaps, and made her way between a few, heading down where the drop wasn't so steep. The smell was growing stronger as she walked, and before long, there was another coyote within her view—he was not too much of a hybrid, the coyote sang strongly in him—but it was there in his size and stature. He was doing something that immediately drew the ashen canine's attention—drawing. Or writing. Either way, he wielded a pen, and the Optime headed over to him eagerly. "You can write?" she marveled, peering pointedly at the journal in his hands. |