run before you have to walk -

Arda Perrio · 08-02-2010, 12:13 AM

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OOC Name: Draggar
Preferred method of contact: PM, email upon request
Character Name: Arda Perrio
Character Age: 14 years
Character Gender: male
Desired Profession Path, if any: He's getting quite a bit up there in the years, but he might be of a little help in the craftsmen department.
Regular Wolf or Luperci: Canis lupus lycaon ortus.
How did you hear about 'Souls?: The RPG-D.
Ugh, I got confused. Was I supposed to use the joining form from the roleplay guide or from AniWaya's website?

Old eyes dropped to the ground. A grey-streaked paw fell upon the ground weakly, followed by two others. The fourth - his left hind - was clutched high, tickling the long matted fur of his underbelly. The great, age-speckled muzzle lifted up as his nostrils flared, half in pain, half in curiousity. The scent of strange wolves hit him with the wind and he hesitated. Going forth could be dangerous to one of his age and current condition, but if he turned back, he would never reach safety with this limp.

Arda Perrio was used to taking risks in his lifetime. It was how he had survive thus far. One more would not hurt, he was confident. The old wolf pressed forward, hindquarters bouncing as he hopped along. It was just a sprain, but even the smallest of sprains could turn into the worst of injuries when you had lived so long. Surely, if Arda had ever been blessed with the gift of grace, all had left him now. With every weak step, the scent of strangers grew. He felt himself shudder, despite his youthful bravery. He had no energy for shifting now, and he wouldn't last on two legs. A fight was out of the question. The old fighter bit down in frustration on the sharpened stone clutched in his mouth. It would have to do for protection.

On the old wolf crawled, breathing rate and heartbeat increasing as he went. He supposed he was nearing a dangerous level of exhaustion. Seven years ago, he could have run the distance he had just walked in five minutes, tops. Everything slowed down with age. Life slowed down so much that looking up at the stars on a clear night could be just as painful as having a bone snapped. But for his restless paws and enduring dignity, he would be useless. Arda cringed. He was not one to accept the pain that came from age. The stronger part of him wanted to believe it was all in his head, that he wasn't really so weak and so broken. The less dominant, and undoubtedly more intelligent, area of the old Luperci's brain argued helplessly, begging his body to give up and take a break. Yet such things as rest had never played a large part in Arda's life.

It made no sense to give up on life when he had made it this far. Why rest now when tomorrow might not even arrive? And he felt certain that he would not see tomorrow anyways. Two things could happen tonight: The strange wolves would rip him to shreds, or chase him away to be killed by something else. A third, more potentially welcoming idea did not even enter the old wolf's mind. Wisdom did not come with age in all cases.

Arda would go down with one last fight, of that he was determined. He didn't count on anything coming his way with good intentions. In the past, the male had found that you could wish one thing and be given the opposite, consistently. The inspiration to take risks still haunted his soul, but the truth of his risks was that when he put his weight against the world, the world pushed back, hard. And yet, the bravery of the wolf led him on, for what was life without a surprise here and there? Without chancing it all for the slim potential of success? There was nothing worth living for if one simply wasted away, even if one was as old as Arda. Believe it or not, the older you get, the more you need hope. The more you need a goal, something worth living for. Death is inevitable, but the circumstances surrounding it can always be changed, or so went the teaching that the old wolf clung to.

He laughed despite himself. Who was he trying to kid? There was nothing to live for anymore. There was only the hope of one more day, maybe one more risk. If he kept walking, there was the possibility of a new day. If he turned back, all that would await Arda was the jaw of a hungry predator, looking for an easy kill. The jagged edges of the sharpened stone in his mouth dug at his lips, but he held it tighter and continued his journey.

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