the only lights here are made

Bangle Guffawri · 05-12-2011, 01:13 AM

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+5. Wheeee. STRESSED BANGLE IS STRESSED.

This stress was more than he could take.

Bangle was always a carefree type of male, but ever since he stepped foot past the big, decorated oak and all its splendors, life as he knew it would change forever. The "artsy-fartsy" pack, as the coywolf would like to call it under his breath, was now devouring his very lifestyle. This grew more apparent when Skye woke him up suddenly, a few days before, claiming that Shawchert had left. Just vanished without a word or note to anyone. Now his mate felt the world on her shoulders, and he knew she was even further burdened by her pregnancy.

It wouldn't be long, now. Now it was a simple waiting game. To the multicolored coywolf, however, it felt like a bomb slowly ticking away until its detonation. Never had the former gypsy felt his freedom being slowly choked away from him, like sucking the very air of the atmosphere. It had slowly become apparent, at first, when the craftsman settled down into his new home. Then the fiery-headed female took him by storm, and Bangle was swept up in a firestorm of passion he had never known. And now - this.

As his form slowly made its way through the thick forest and towards the large tree, Bangle didn't carry much with him. His painted skull, gnarled wooden staff, lute, and a satchel of provisions. Shoulders slumped in an obvious fashion, his joy as gone as the wind he used to travel with. The male couldn't bring himself to put his own, personal troubles upon his mate - she was heavy with many other problems. A part of the male felt, that when he and Skye became parents, that last bit of freedom would disappear over the mountains with the setting sun, forever casting him in a dark shroud of commitment.

Despite the foreboding circumstances, Cercatori was in need of another of its irenic get-togethers, but to Bangle it felt like it would be a gathering of the same old faces he'd seen lately. The rattling that came from his staff and other ornaments hanging on his frame announced his arrival at the Border Tree, though there was no real grin cracking his face in two nor his usual, positive vigour when seeing someone new. For the moment, at least, only one was unfamiliar to his orange eyes, clouded with a dullness that could not be perceived.

However, the coywolf had hoped his negativity would not ruin the seemingly positive attitude of his woman, who stood before the tree and awaited the arrival of her packmates. Despite the bright fire that burned within her, Bangle knew what she was capable of - what she could and could not handle. It seemed to weigh him down as much as it had been on her, as the previous days found her relaying everything upon the craftsman. As he passed by, he stopped to lay a hand upon her belly - not long now. His gaze met her own for a brief second, and was found with only a flitting smirk upon his lips, before Bangle took a few steps to the nearest tree, and hunkered down at its base in a cross manner.

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