Down, down, down

Viking Sigurdr · 03-06-2011, 04:01 PM

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Poor King doesn't know how to hold/pick up a puppy xDD; +5

The large warrior could have easily passed up in helping the small pup, hell, even some tougher warriors of his Band would have seen it as an opportunity for a quick meal, or a ransom for something more. But the bone washed male that was on his knees in the dirt had a certain, more unfamiliar side to him than what he showed. A straight, stern face was kept on the giant's scarred visage, awkwardly having picked up the now squirming wolf pup by its hind leg.

Admittedly, Viking had no idea how to handle pups. The ones in the Warrior Band were taught how to obey orders from the moment they could open their small eyes and see the cruel, real world before them. There was no room for games, or play, or any of the sort for warriors in training. King's brows furrowed as he pulled the fuzzy brown thing from the hole in the ground, puzzled still at the strange and different ways of these lands - and its wolves. The large male didn't let go of the pup immediately, as it squeaked and pleaded for the warrior not to consume it. Viking snorted, bringing the pup closer to his own face to take a look at it.

Still dangling the pup upside down, King brought the pup inches from his face, as he inspected the small female. There were no deformities, nor injuries to the pup, so chances were slim that its parents had dumped the whelp into the hole to die. Normally, it wouldn't cross a wolf's mind to abandon a pup that wasn't strong - but in Viking's world, it was a very important stage of life. The rulers determined if a pup was strong enough to fight, which meant no birth defects. Each warrior had to be born perfect, and those that weren't were discarded of and forgotten. However, this was no new pup - a couple months old, at best. So, then, why was it out here?

The large giant snorted at the pup, before gently settling it down onto the ground. It was a strange sight, to see a large beast, adorned with an antler helmet and a mighty axe, to have handled a small and innocent pup. Viking would never admit it, but he wasn't the desperate kind to make a small meal out of another, smaller wolf. As he set the pup down onto even ground, the warrior gave it a small pat on the rump, lightly pushing it in whatever direction it called home. A small grunt, which was not threatening but still sounded violent, came from within the beast's closed mouth. Slowly but surely, the giant rose up from the ground. The pup was not a concern to the male, and while others of his kind might have looked down on him for not disposing of the small creature, it was free to return home again. With one thundering footstep, Viking turned to make his way towards his weapon that made anything, even the earth it bit into, its prey.

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