11-14-2010, 12:51 AM
[html]Sorry this took a while! Finally found the muse to start the thread :3. 3 points.
The day started out rather chilly, but the skies were clear and visible. Bangle started his trek out this morning with a long fur coat, and brought with him his tool belt, staff, and lute. He was feeling like he had to explore more of the pack territory, and an off-path adventure was just what the coywolf wanted. The lush forest was quiet, leaving the male alone to his thoughts to begin the day. The tunes of the birds soon brought a whistle to his lips, lifting his muzzle up and whistling loud, so that even the longest tower branches carried his tune to the sky.
His trail led him to a pathway that was yet to be carved out by the earth, yet some footprints had come and gone this way a few times. Bangle smiled, and he followed this pathway until the area around him began to close up a bit, and then bushes gave way to a small clearing. The red and gray male happily stepped into the small area, where a small lake flowed through it, and several rocks peppered the area. Though the natural sounds of the forest still echoed throughout the area, it was quieter, and brought a grand smile to the male's features.
Shrugging off his long coat and laying it across a boulder that stood out near the lake, the mixed male made himself at home. He laid his staff out on the ground, and the jewels which dangled from it made noise, as if to protest. The male then pulled the instrument from his back the moment he laid back on the rock, and placed the lute on his chest as he raised his right leg up and let his other dangle lazily. Finally finding a good spot to lay across the boulder, he looked up to the sky and let his fingers pluck the strings, allowing the lute to strum out whatever beat it wanted. As a tune stared up, the cool breeze whipped up and through the clearing, reminding anyone that the frost was just around the corner.
"To the frost," he said idly, lifting the lute up slightly as if to make a toast to the oncoming cold season. He closed his eyes and lay his head back, finding a tune that was soft, and a little haunting, his dreadlocks splayed across the boulder like a long-legged spider.
The day started out rather chilly, but the skies were clear and visible. Bangle started his trek out this morning with a long fur coat, and brought with him his tool belt, staff, and lute. He was feeling like he had to explore more of the pack territory, and an off-path adventure was just what the coywolf wanted. The lush forest was quiet, leaving the male alone to his thoughts to begin the day. The tunes of the birds soon brought a whistle to his lips, lifting his muzzle up and whistling loud, so that even the longest tower branches carried his tune to the sky.
His trail led him to a pathway that was yet to be carved out by the earth, yet some footprints had come and gone this way a few times. Bangle smiled, and he followed this pathway until the area around him began to close up a bit, and then bushes gave way to a small clearing. The red and gray male happily stepped into the small area, where a small lake flowed through it, and several rocks peppered the area. Though the natural sounds of the forest still echoed throughout the area, it was quieter, and brought a grand smile to the male's features.
Shrugging off his long coat and laying it across a boulder that stood out near the lake, the mixed male made himself at home. He laid his staff out on the ground, and the jewels which dangled from it made noise, as if to protest. The male then pulled the instrument from his back the moment he laid back on the rock, and placed the lute on his chest as he raised his right leg up and let his other dangle lazily. Finally finding a good spot to lay across the boulder, he looked up to the sky and let his fingers pluck the strings, allowing the lute to strum out whatever beat it wanted. As a tune stared up, the cool breeze whipped up and through the clearing, reminding anyone that the frost was just around the corner.
"To the frost," he said idly, lifting the lute up slightly as if to make a toast to the oncoming cold season. He closed his eyes and lay his head back, finding a tune that was soft, and a little haunting, his dreadlocks splayed across the boulder like a long-legged spider.