Missing you, despite my best intentions...

Anatole Aston · 01-03-2012, 03:23 AM

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Anatole listened to the dark woman at his side, who seemed to have an ill respite with this Anathema pack. It sounded like a peculiar place, especially since this skinny man had left them and his “civilized” home for a place like AniWaya. While not as feral as Anatole would have liked, he would not have survived elsewhere. Subordination did not settle in his blood, not because he wished to lead (and he did not—it required too much work, too much socialization) but because he was unable to bow his head to those he saw as unworthy. At least here, there was a less dramatic need for such a thing. Especially now, while the Tribe recovered from a war that seemed to have ripped asunder their very way of life.

He listened further to the stories of this Anathema pack. As a scout, he would need to learn of such neighbors…even if they were far away from the Tribe. Witchcraft was an unknown thing to him, but caves he knew. Expansive caves were peculiar places for a wolf to live; he understood digging ones own home, or taking a small cave for a den, but to live under a mountain? That was odd. They were more moles than wolves, as far as he was concerned.

While hostility was part of his life, Anatole had begun to settle with the indifference of the woman (and even the coyote man). He sighed and looked over at the girl, his eyes echoing the same question spoken. Their leader and his own cousin had filled in many gaps, but these were different words and experiences than those of the members themselves. What truly had gone on in the darkest days of this place, when fear was palpable and terror came in those who were supposed to protect?

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