07-24-2009, 07:09 PM
[html]
http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s304 ... wicked.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-bottom:185px; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#000000; text-align:justify; font-family:tahoma; font-size:11px; color:#C2A52C; line-height:16px">Don't mind Anselm, he's just cranky. D:
------He'd departed from Crimson Dreams with his spirits high and the direction he travelled was fitting: straight up, a direct shot north until he all but collided with Dahlia's borders along the boundary within Overgrowth Sunrise. Though the male often chose to patrol neighbouring packs' borders completely down-shifted, calling attention to himself so that he may receive direct answers to any census inquiries he may have, here his tactics were quite different. He slunk about in his usual preferred form--that of a halfling--skirting around the edges of the pack, occasionally taking several bold steps inside for closer inspection, and often vanishing when he noticed any sign of another who may be around.
------He kept moving now, too, rather than lingering in any one position for awfully long. If somebody he didn't know met him, he would explain that he was simply headed northeast. This would be a statement of fact, and it would easily explain why his scent would be found trailing along the perimeter. As the golden hybrid lurked, he came to realise the Dahlians had expanded their territory since he'd been here last. Now they laid claim to lands straight up to the edge of Halifax, and he couldn't help but be somewhat annoyed by the idea.
------The city was one of his favourite places to visit, but now he would need to cut through just to visit Savina (or anyone else further south). Why the hell were they monopolising the stretch of land that separated the northern packs from those in the south? It may have been completely innocent and for their own convenience (assuming some of the members also liked to visit the city), but the irritating shape of their territory caused the long fur of his mane to stand on end as he considered having to go out of his way every time he just wanted to go the fuck home. Couldn't they have expanded in a more reasonable fashion?
------By the time he crossed back into Arachnea's Revenge, his mind was a swirl of anger and relief over the prospect of finally getting home. Although he'd gathered plenty of valuable "data" during his quest, it was definitely time to get back to his family and stay there for awhile. So absorbed he was in his thoughts that he scarcely noticed the warrior until he was practically upon her. His footsteps faltered and stopped as he peered at her from behind--her body was covered in intricate markings that reminded him vaguely of Maserati, though these seemed far more deliberate and careful. Gabriel's voice rang in the back of his head, but the words were garbled and distant: all he could focus on now was her scent. Dahlia. Pregnant. High ranked. And then his crimson gaze dropped to the spear at her side.
------Oh; fuck no. Nope, uh uh, his mind spun. He shook his head then swung widely out to the side in his path. He'd probably been noticed already, but that didn't mean he didn't want as much distance between them as possible. If she was looking for trouble, he wanted no part of it. He just wanted to go home. The tattooed male kept his gaze and ears trained forward as he moved, hair standing just a bit on end.
------He'd departed from Crimson Dreams with his spirits high and the direction he travelled was fitting: straight up, a direct shot north until he all but collided with Dahlia's borders along the boundary within Overgrowth Sunrise. Though the male often chose to patrol neighbouring packs' borders completely down-shifted, calling attention to himself so that he may receive direct answers to any census inquiries he may have, here his tactics were quite different. He slunk about in his usual preferred form--that of a halfling--skirting around the edges of the pack, occasionally taking several bold steps inside for closer inspection, and often vanishing when he noticed any sign of another who may be around.
------He kept moving now, too, rather than lingering in any one position for awfully long. If somebody he didn't know met him, he would explain that he was simply headed northeast. This would be a statement of fact, and it would easily explain why his scent would be found trailing along the perimeter. As the golden hybrid lurked, he came to realise the Dahlians had expanded their territory since he'd been here last. Now they laid claim to lands straight up to the edge of Halifax, and he couldn't help but be somewhat annoyed by the idea.
------The city was one of his favourite places to visit, but now he would need to cut through just to visit Savina (or anyone else further south). Why the hell were they monopolising the stretch of land that separated the northern packs from those in the south? It may have been completely innocent and for their own convenience (assuming some of the members also liked to visit the city), but the irritating shape of their territory caused the long fur of his mane to stand on end as he considered having to go out of his way every time he just wanted to go the fuck home. Couldn't they have expanded in a more reasonable fashion?
------By the time he crossed back into Arachnea's Revenge, his mind was a swirl of anger and relief over the prospect of finally getting home. Although he'd gathered plenty of valuable "data" during his quest, it was definitely time to get back to his family and stay there for awhile. So absorbed he was in his thoughts that he scarcely noticed the warrior until he was practically upon her. His footsteps faltered and stopped as he peered at her from behind--her body was covered in intricate markings that reminded him vaguely of Maserati, though these seemed far more deliberate and careful. Gabriel's voice rang in the back of his head, but the words were garbled and distant: all he could focus on now was her scent. Dahlia. Pregnant. High ranked. And then his crimson gaze dropped to the spear at her side.
------Oh; fuck no. Nope, uh uh, his mind spun. He shook his head then swung widely out to the side in his path. He'd probably been noticed already, but that didn't mean he didn't want as much distance between them as possible. If she was looking for trouble, he wanted no part of it. He just wanted to go home. The tattooed male kept his gaze and ears trained forward as he moved, hair standing just a bit on end.