we're the smoke on a burnt horizon.

Barrett · 11-14-2011, 12:25 PM

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Foredated to the 17th. I'm interested in anyone who can update Barry on the war, but I'd *strongly* prefer someone he already knows. This thread should be 'relatively' quick (well, as quick as it can be given I suck at posting during the week | Smile

, so no more than two others, please, and short posts are fine. c:

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What was once a familiar journey now felt strange and alien. The wolf couldn't wrap his head around the fact three months had come and gone since he last passed through Ethereal Eclipse en route to Crimson Dreams. Although the first half of that time was spent in blissful ignorance of the lakeside pack's predicament, he wasn't sure what he could say for himself now. The excuses were a dime a dozen, but none of them seemed to hold enough weight. Yeah — he would've been set back a good year had he not prioritised work around the garage, and maybe his kids wouldn't even recognise him had he been any less of a parent; maybe Jazper would've clobbered his ass if news of his frisky liaison with Ghita leaked–hell, maybe Savina would've, too — and true, he had sent back supplies with Silvano. He'd made some effort. But as with most of his efforts, it felt half-assed.

It wasn't an easy decision to come here, but with all of his other affairs in order he had no excuses left. And oh, how things that were out of sight and out of mind came back with a vengeance. Each advancing footfall caused concern to swell in his chest like a rising tide. He should have come sooner! Why hadn't he heard anything back from Silvano? You idiot, his mind hissed, like the drugs couldn't wait!! By the time he reached the borders, he'd worked himself into such a frenzy that he didn't even realise he'd been sprinting the last half mile dash. He skidded to a halt and stared blankly at the skeletal trees ahead, panting roughly. Usually the epitome of cool indifference, he found himself nearly as distraught by his own emotions as the situation at hand. Breathe. Inhale. The borders were still well marked. Savina's scent reassured him.

He shook his head as if to clear it, then wriggled out of his bag. It was left at the base of a tall pine while he tiptoed nearer the borders on all fours. He waited; nothing happened. He wasn't sure what he thought should happen — things actually seemed pretty normal. There was no scent of blood; no sound of battle. Why wouldn't the Dreamers be able to hold their own? Savina was an experienced leader and her numbers were strong. Maybe he'd gotten worked up over nothing. Only once he managed to convince himself of it and collect his thoughts did he howl for someone's attention. Anyone. Any news had to be better than uncertainty and his own imagination.

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