01-07-2012, 01:36 AM
The snow covered landscape in the north was stunning, he had come across this on one of his morning hunts, and knew he had to show X’y. Sometimes stopping to see the great Creator’s work reminded him of just how small and insignificant he really was. How the objects that held fast to his mind, the problems that seemed to blow out of proportion where really nothing in the grand scheme of things. While he never broadcasted his faith, or spoke at all or any of it, the prayer beads that always hung around his neck where a reminder of how he was saved from the brutality that had taken over his soul.
He dipped his head to return her kiss, and playful nip, eyes bright and alive as he took in her beauty as well. Saluce was lucky, luckier than he probably should have ever been, he didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve to have her affection, but he had it and he was grateful for the beauty he had been blessed with.
“I thank the great Creator every day when I see your sleeping form beside me.” He said with a smile, his eyes not leaving the vixen underneath him. Saluce never addressed his god as lord, or God, or Holy Spirit, since most of the more feral wolves he had met would accuse him of witch craft. But since they had been together he hadn’t spoken of him at all. His bible was safely kept away in a secret location, one of his more prized possessions.
“Did your pack ever speak of the Creator? Or of his son Jesus? And the tale of his great sacrifice? I come from across the ocean, in a world much more advanced I guess then here. My faith I believe is called Roman Catholicism. My prayer beads are a reflection of that.”
He dipped his head to return her kiss, and playful nip, eyes bright and alive as he took in her beauty as well. Saluce was lucky, luckier than he probably should have ever been, he didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve to have her affection, but he had it and he was grateful for the beauty he had been blessed with.
“I thank the great Creator every day when I see your sleeping form beside me.” He said with a smile, his eyes not leaving the vixen underneath him. Saluce never addressed his god as lord, or God, or Holy Spirit, since most of the more feral wolves he had met would accuse him of witch craft. But since they had been together he hadn’t spoken of him at all. His bible was safely kept away in a secret location, one of his more prized possessions.
“Did your pack ever speak of the Creator? Or of his son Jesus? And the tale of his great sacrifice? I come from across the ocean, in a world much more advanced I guess then here. My faith I believe is called Roman Catholicism. My prayer beads are a reflection of that.”