01-01-2010, 08:13 PM
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SSWM 220
He watched the child; the small framed soul on its own in a scenery that seemed tranquil and harmonic, but so easily could offer death to those not fortunate. He wondered why the little being thought absent parents was insignificant. Young ones should be closely connected and truly fond of the adults that brought them up. Conor did not believe in a high percentage of broken homes. Eyes searched for adult frames over and over but there were none. All he could discover was the quickly fading scent of someone that would not come back. The young male’s jaws tightened in silent sorrow, for this was not how such a young life should be treated. Ears perked forwards as the child introduced itself and he offered a sad smile, wanting to reach out to offer the child warmth. ”I am Conor Soul from Dahlia de Mai, the pack that lives here.” he explained with his calm, comfortable voice. ”Will they come back for you?” he now had to ask. He ached for the child to answer him with a sincere “yes”, but knew that this would likely not be the case. It was too much of a coincidence. This was not the first, nor would it be the last time that a homeless child would appear by a pack’s borders.
Table credit: Reqiem(Cwmfen)SSWM 220
He watched the child; the small framed soul on its own in a scenery that seemed tranquil and harmonic, but so easily could offer death to those not fortunate. He wondered why the little being thought absent parents was insignificant. Young ones should be closely connected and truly fond of the adults that brought them up. Conor did not believe in a high percentage of broken homes. Eyes searched for adult frames over and over but there were none. All he could discover was the quickly fading scent of someone that would not come back. The young male’s jaws tightened in silent sorrow, for this was not how such a young life should be treated. Ears perked forwards as the child introduced itself and he offered a sad smile, wanting to reach out to offer the child warmth. ”I am Conor Soul from Dahlia de Mai, the pack that lives here.” he explained with his calm, comfortable voice. ”Will they come back for you?” he now had to ask. He ached for the child to answer him with a sincere “yes”, but knew that this would likely not be the case. It was too much of a coincidence. This was not the first, nor would it be the last time that a homeless child would appear by a pack’s borders.