ordinarily less then most

Alder · 04-27-2011, 09:55 AM

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Wind touched his back, ruffling the dark shaggy fur. Black masked eyes blinked at the blue sky, white clouds of a cotton shape moving steadily along the bright background. It was a day that spoke of Spring, told whispers of Summer and yet still left him with the memories of Winter. The boy's cut mane moved to hide his eyes, and once again ink dipped fingers cut across his brow to clear his view.

He was still growing, but not in the way that one might see. He was as tall as he would ever become, and the boy was beyond the height of most. It came from his father, and perhaps the father of his dam. She had spoken of his grandfather, a great wolf that had been of even greater stature. Anu had told him he reminded her of that alpha wolf, a man of few words and a sweet deep love for the Earth and the plants that grew from it's soils. Alder imagined that he could be as his mother's father. Brave and confident, even if he wished to be quiet and a beast of few words. Alone he could puff out his chest and pretend that he was such a wolf, with dominance in his stance. But, when another approached he deflated more easily then a balloon brushing against a pin.

Without a canine present along the path that would lead him to his familiar haunting grounds of Cour des Miracles he did not play pretend. The male stood straight, but his features were relaxed as he held the leather rope of the bay mare's halter. She was a friendly horse, and carried water or supplies for him when he asked it. Another bucket was held in that strong hand, for she called for little to no control. Leading her on, Alder found contentment in his chores and the silence of the worn comforting path.

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