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WARNING This thread contains: strong language, drug usage, strong violence, or strong sexual content starting with the #th post. Reader discretion is advised. |
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table © Alaine
ooc: SYLVIE <3
The sun melted down towards a blistering horizon, coral pinks and bold oranges bleeding out in defiance across the soft, bruised sky. The air smelt of rain, but it had yet to come - Carried upon a persistent zephyr, the scent tickled his ebony nose, made it twitch in anticipation.
The weather was warming, growing through winter and towards the warmer climate of spring. It was to his stark pelt that the blizzards and deep blues of ice gorges still clung, the winters boy, the owl-eyes big-nose stutter-tongue boy. But Caillen was no longer a pup; beneath the gentle line of his lingering smile were a row of sharp, tapered wolf-fangs, glittering daggers revealed now as a sigh parted his maw. Still blessed with abundant youth, the teen had retained some of his gangly awkwardness, but beneath that thick, lustrous pelt now wove iron muscles, liquid machinery, and the weapons of war.
Time had changed the dreamer to a vagabond. He was a restless soul now, wandering further with each day, but to what means? The violet eyes he sought were never there, never awaiting his return, and as such the young Romeo traveled further and further in his pursuit of that longing gaze. His heart was a pneumatic, wistful thing, craving what it had once savored with much a tang of bitterness. Alaine was lost to her work within the pack, and as such, left her growing son to his lonesome much of the time. It was not neglect; It was just a single mother, working her fingers to the bone. But that had alleviated his most pressing concern - With his mother so busy, she had hardly the time nor the energy to fall into those melancholy lapses he'd so feared in his childish months.
So Caillen had found himself the owner of a larger, brawnier body, bursting to the brim with frustrated adolescent power, and nothing to do with it. He had shot right up, although everyone who had seen the pup he'd been would have known that; Now, in his lupus form, the wolfdog could tower over those his age of both pure breeds. But for all his immenseness, there was not a malicious streak in that goofy grin, those gentle sky-blue eyes.
The wind pulled his scent down through the rolling hills of the Cour des Miracles territory. Far in the distance, his wandering eyes could still see the creaking raven roof of the Chien Hotel, his 'home'. Alaine was not there - She'd been call out to tend some injured lady, or something of the sort. Consumed by his loneliness, Caillen allowed his mind to drift away pleasantly on the rolls of sun-splashed clouds o'erhead, while night slowly stole away the light.
Speak think walk
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