Don't send me no letters, no

Liev Morozov · 01-24-2011, 08:03 PM

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Hai!

It didn't feel right. he believed his best, most fitting tier was that of animal caring, and he knew nothing of the subject. How wronger could it get? No more than that, the Russian hoped.

He had talked to Naniko about it, and she mentioned he could go to AniWaya, a pack a bit far away, that held all the knowledge he wanted to learn on these pet animals. So, in his Secui form, he departed from the Anatheman lands for the second time since he had joined, and raced to said pack during the sunrise. Or tribe, he wasn't that sure. His leader had told him they held the tradition of ancient human groups, named Cherokee. They no longer exist, of course, but it still thrilled the foreigner male.

He had only stopped to rest twice. One during noon for a break and lunch, and the last was now, where he stood, four paws getting slightly sore from the running, determined and curious purple eyes staring at the structure in front of him. A fence. It had been a while he had seen one so well kept. It must be to keep all their animals inside, probably. The interested male sat on the snow-covered ground, studying the object further more, trying to understand how they made the wood that straight, how the wires were knotted, how the parts were assembled.

Once he was happy with his investigation and what he had already learned just by meeting this pack's boarders, the bulky man howled, a deep, grutural call. Once he was done, it still echoed in both his ears and the woods. Then, once the ringing inside his ear drums had ceassed, the gray man stood straight, placing the big backpack he had carried besides him, and focused on shifting. Joints clicked together, bones shivered with the sudden growth, mane gew in front of his face and muscles tensed as they changed places. Not a minute later, the huge, almost tiger-like Secui traded places with a thick-built, tall wolf, blondish mane being placed back in it's proper place. Kneeling with both knees on the cold soil, the ex-Captain began to scavenge the depths of his bag, and brought out a pale beige bandana, a leather belt with a round flask hanging on it, and an ankle holster, a hunting knife clinging to the leather.

Once all his accessories were placed on him, the male stood up, ears, eyes and nose searching for any sign of a scout or a patrol that came to meet with the stranger that had summoned them.

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