04-24-2011, 12:16 AM
(don't have my tables saved on my new laptop ><)
The beating of hooves upon the ground could be heard for some distance away, the horse itself was massive, 19 hands, and could easily dwarf any wolf looking for an easy meal. The hind quarters alone could deliver such a brutal kick that any poor wolf finding themselves in the way of them would not survive. Mounted atop this wonder of nature was another wonder of nature, the behemoth, teacher, the man who once was regarded highly among the ranks of Dahlia, now though he was a wanderer. His memories had failed him, the scar across his head was a constant reminder, and it had deformed the man’s once proud handsome face. Now his fur didn’t grow along a swath across his forehead leaving the man with an ugly reminder. This version of the man was different; he had left his adopted homeland, confused, weak and without the memories of what he once had. Now though he was returning with a purpose. Charlemagne nickered in an irritated fashion, always irritable, especially since he had to carry such a large wolf. But only a shire horse would be do for such an imposing wolf. Saluce gently patted his steed’s side, it seemed the two had a mutual agreement, Saluce would keep hungry wolves away from him, and Charlemagne would carry him into any situation. It was mutually beneficial and the intelligence of his horse was another rewarding aspect, even though he couldn’t understand low speak he knew his horse understood him to some degree. The pat seemed to reaffirm the gentle nature with which Saluce treated him; it was out of respect that the behemoth didn’t treat him harshly. And so the horse started back moving seemingly fine now that the simple gesture was given to the irritable horse.
The black shire horse trod along, with the steel plated wolf atop him. The warrior was finally complete, he was formidable, no simple attack could possibly harm him, and even though some mobility was given up with his chosen style, his strength afforded him that luxury. While not the tallest wolf on earth he was probably the most massive. And for such a menacing looking wolf he carried a huge two handed hammer named after the greek god “Vulcan”. It was all for look, and purpose, most people wouldn’t mess with him, but most of them never would know how kind the man was. While he had wandered his memories had returned, and with that his purpose in life was laid out before him again. Thoughts of Nayru and her sister flooded his mind, along with Gideon, and most of all his young Pupil Saul. He had left much behind in Dahlia, even his close friend Conor, and he was looking forward to seeing him again. He hoped everyone was okay, he had again failed the pack he loved so much even if he hadn’t realized it when he left.
Finally the horse stopped at the marked boundary, head swiveling to look at the man he carried, almost asking if this was the place. A simple nod was given to him before he dismounted his very proud horse; again he patted his side and scratched his ears. Kindness was something he had given his horse, saving it from a pack to the north, and kindness would be what he would offer it for its service to him. The behemoths head lifted skyward, and a deep long and sorrowful howl erupted from his lips, singing his lonely song of sadness for leaving his home for so long. The call went out to the alpha, Conor, he’d speak with him first and foremost, completely unaware of what had transpired in his absence.
The beating of hooves upon the ground could be heard for some distance away, the horse itself was massive, 19 hands, and could easily dwarf any wolf looking for an easy meal. The hind quarters alone could deliver such a brutal kick that any poor wolf finding themselves in the way of them would not survive. Mounted atop this wonder of nature was another wonder of nature, the behemoth, teacher, the man who once was regarded highly among the ranks of Dahlia, now though he was a wanderer. His memories had failed him, the scar across his head was a constant reminder, and it had deformed the man’s once proud handsome face. Now his fur didn’t grow along a swath across his forehead leaving the man with an ugly reminder. This version of the man was different; he had left his adopted homeland, confused, weak and without the memories of what he once had. Now though he was returning with a purpose. Charlemagne nickered in an irritated fashion, always irritable, especially since he had to carry such a large wolf. But only a shire horse would be do for such an imposing wolf. Saluce gently patted his steed’s side, it seemed the two had a mutual agreement, Saluce would keep hungry wolves away from him, and Charlemagne would carry him into any situation. It was mutually beneficial and the intelligence of his horse was another rewarding aspect, even though he couldn’t understand low speak he knew his horse understood him to some degree. The pat seemed to reaffirm the gentle nature with which Saluce treated him; it was out of respect that the behemoth didn’t treat him harshly. And so the horse started back moving seemingly fine now that the simple gesture was given to the irritable horse.
The black shire horse trod along, with the steel plated wolf atop him. The warrior was finally complete, he was formidable, no simple attack could possibly harm him, and even though some mobility was given up with his chosen style, his strength afforded him that luxury. While not the tallest wolf on earth he was probably the most massive. And for such a menacing looking wolf he carried a huge two handed hammer named after the greek god “Vulcan”. It was all for look, and purpose, most people wouldn’t mess with him, but most of them never would know how kind the man was. While he had wandered his memories had returned, and with that his purpose in life was laid out before him again. Thoughts of Nayru and her sister flooded his mind, along with Gideon, and most of all his young Pupil Saul. He had left much behind in Dahlia, even his close friend Conor, and he was looking forward to seeing him again. He hoped everyone was okay, he had again failed the pack he loved so much even if he hadn’t realized it when he left.
Finally the horse stopped at the marked boundary, head swiveling to look at the man he carried, almost asking if this was the place. A simple nod was given to him before he dismounted his very proud horse; again he patted his side and scratched his ears. Kindness was something he had given his horse, saving it from a pack to the north, and kindness would be what he would offer it for its service to him. The behemoths head lifted skyward, and a deep long and sorrowful howl erupted from his lips, singing his lonely song of sadness for leaving his home for so long. The call went out to the alpha, Conor, he’d speak with him first and foremost, completely unaware of what had transpired in his absence.