04-24-2010, 04:41 PM
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Sorry for the delay, Sieface. <3 (458.)
He was three months old and his mother could not keep him at home anymore. He had followed her and kept at her side for many weeks, but now King felt as though those ties were loosening, falling at his feet before slithering away like snakes. Now his daily adventures consisted of scouring Dahlia de Mai lands, seeing everything. He wound his way through the streets of the towns, stared out over the misty ocean, and wandered through the labyrinthine forests. The boy never seemed to get lost, no matter where he managed to get. King showed to have an extraordinary sense of direction, an internal compass that pulled him where he wanted to go. He always returned for mealtime, continuously hungry.
Because he was growing, he was told. King's body seemed to ignore his own age, scaling upwards as days past; he already looked closer to four-months-old rather than the truth of what it was. As for his mind, well. King had a lot to think about. For when he was venturing across the lands he was also searching for any trails or traces of his departed father, gone from the lands. He missed him greatly; King didn't really think many other people around here were worth the time spent with them. Haku Soul was, however. He had promised to take King with him to show him something, on an adventure, and it was depressing that he might've missed that chance. He looked for him constantly because he wanted that chance, craving his father's elusive attention and approval.
And now his oversized tan paws took him along the boundaries of the territory, bordering that mysterious land where he had only seen briefly. King may be insufferable at exploring his home, but he had not yet expanded that search elsewhere. This was as close as he got, usually, and it was there that he saw the figure waiting along at the borders. His walking ceased, the black fur along his spine and on his shoulders prickling with nervous interest. Memories of the war still brimmed in King's mind -- he did not trust anyone outside, and not many inside either. His blue eyes were staring, blinking seldom, as he stepped forward onto the borders. He lifted his head, stance strong and possessive of that boundary. He felt he needed to show the stranger that he owned these lands, if not partially.
He was a wolf, not one of those bad coyotes, his fur lighter than most than he would see. After watching the stranger's green eyes and trying to sense how he felt, King asked, "What do you want?" Despite the youth in his tones, there was a dominance in his tone that might be subject to question.