12-16-2011, 01:57 AM
OOC: 20th Dec 2011,12:55 am; Drifter Bay
1 mile from Salsola, foredated: Dec 20th, 2011
Alonso was nearing the end of his strength. He’d been travelling for days now and the untouched white blanket of snow confirmed what he already knew – winter was here. He stumbled as he climbed up the path and knew that the lack of food was making him more disoriented as time went by. Soon he wouldn’t be able to move at all and would simply die of cold and exhaustion. Unfortunately Alonso, after a lifetime of hunting in a pack, still hadn’t mastered the technique of catching prey on his own. Ever since he had left Mexico, after his pack had been destroyed by a wandering pack of Luperci, he’d been heading north with no fixed destination in mind. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where he was now. He’d been heading north and about to turn west when a wandering coyote told him of a large area east of him that was inhabited by multiple packs of wolves, Luperci and other canines. At first Alonso had scoffed – ‘Large inhabited area? Luperci and wolves coexisting?’ Nevertheless, after a long conversation with the coyote, he’d headed off east in search of this mysterious land called ‘Souls.
That had been 2 days ago. He’d still seen no sight of this land and even his encounters with other canines had become less. Under normal circumstances this would have made Alonso extremely grateful, he had last encountered a Timber wolf with a pair of nasty claws, but lonely as he was right now he would have been glad at the sight of even a Luperci. He was just about to head back towards the west when he smelt the sweet, intoxicating scent of fresh water. “Fresh water and the possibility of game” he thought to himself as he bounded off in the direction of the scent, driven by his desperate need for sustenance. He kept running until he reached the banks of a stream running through the middle of the forest. Despite the snow on the ground the stream hadn’t frozen over and Alonso thankfully began to gulp down the water. The cool liquid felt like heaven to his parched throat. His senses, numbed by days of hard travel and the numbing relief of being able to finally get a drink, hadn’t yet noticed the leaves on the opposite side of the stream begin to rustle.
1 mile from Salsola, foredated: Dec 20th, 2011
Alonso was nearing the end of his strength. He’d been travelling for days now and the untouched white blanket of snow confirmed what he already knew – winter was here. He stumbled as he climbed up the path and knew that the lack of food was making him more disoriented as time went by. Soon he wouldn’t be able to move at all and would simply die of cold and exhaustion. Unfortunately Alonso, after a lifetime of hunting in a pack, still hadn’t mastered the technique of catching prey on his own. Ever since he had left Mexico, after his pack had been destroyed by a wandering pack of Luperci, he’d been heading north with no fixed destination in mind. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where he was now. He’d been heading north and about to turn west when a wandering coyote told him of a large area east of him that was inhabited by multiple packs of wolves, Luperci and other canines. At first Alonso had scoffed – ‘Large inhabited area? Luperci and wolves coexisting?’ Nevertheless, after a long conversation with the coyote, he’d headed off east in search of this mysterious land called ‘Souls.
That had been 2 days ago. He’d still seen no sight of this land and even his encounters with other canines had become less. Under normal circumstances this would have made Alonso extremely grateful, he had last encountered a Timber wolf with a pair of nasty claws, but lonely as he was right now he would have been glad at the sight of even a Luperci. He was just about to head back towards the west when he smelt the sweet, intoxicating scent of fresh water. “Fresh water and the possibility of game” he thought to himself as he bounded off in the direction of the scent, driven by his desperate need for sustenance. He kept running until he reached the banks of a stream running through the middle of the forest. Despite the snow on the ground the stream hadn’t frozen over and Alonso thankfully began to gulp down the water. The cool liquid felt like heaven to his parched throat. His senses, numbed by days of hard travel and the numbing relief of being able to finally get a drink, hadn’t yet noticed the leaves on the opposite side of the stream begin to rustle.