Where the Wind Blows

Cerberus Antum · 02-15-2012, 01:25 PM

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Word Count → 604 :: OOC

Cerberus thought long and hard about this decision as he stumbled over the rocky terrain of the mountains, his snout pointed toward New Dawn. It had been a rough couple of nights without Ciara, and that was enough to nudge him right on over to the borders of the packlands without question. But he did have a question racing around in his mind, and it was that of whether or not they’d accept someone who was part coyote. It was a very small part indeed, but the coloring of his mother and the scruffiness of his grandmother seasoned his appearance enough to hint at his heritage, even though the majority of his blood belonged to Arctic and Timber wolf genes. Suddenly, however, it occurred to Cerberus that he’d never really tried to maintain his appearance, not counting the several times a day he ran his fingers through his optime hair. Perhaps it would benefit him to take pause in his journey long enough to actually comb out his unkempt fur?

And so he did. Every misplaced hair and tousled patch of fur was soon disciplined by his combing fingers, until eventually the wolfish side of him prevailed in his appearance. Bathing in the river before his departure had helped, and suddenly he was grateful for the inkling to do so. The mere fluff of his white and tan fur made him look bigger, stronger, and more wolf-like. His voice sounded wolfish enough, and he was thankful for that. He just hoped the leaders of New Dawn wouldn’t look past his efforts and draw attention to the small bit of coyote that flavored his blood.

Taking a moment to shift into his lupus form, Cerberus concentrated on shortening his limbs and contorting his body until he eventually stood on four paws, his bushy tail swaying behind him and a sharp-toothed grin tugged across his handsome face. He didn’t need to see his reflection to know he looked nice, because he could just feel it. The machismo simply oozed from the man; however he did try and tone it down this once to avoid appearing big-headed. Pushing forward, Cerberus soon found himself at a scent marker labeled by New Dawn wolves, and he stood still in order to collect his thoughts. Luckily this wasn’t as hefty of a decision as choosing a mate, as he still had the freedom to roam, even if it wasn’t as far as he’d been before. And he loved this area; the bay was not far from where he stood now. But the nagging doubt of whether or not he’d be accepted formed a lump in his throat, and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to howl. The coyote he’d met not long ago had belonged to Inferni, a pack whose stipulations were almost opposite of New Dawn’s. He’d have a better chance there to be sure, simply because his genes were flecked with coyote blood. But the wolfish side of him, the side that belonged to his father, grandfather, and other ancestors, founded the strength within him to puff out his chest and finally lift his head. From the very depths of his soul, from the very fibers of his being, Cerberus let free the thickest and most far-reaching howl he could muster. It vibrated throughout the hills, calling attention to those close enough to hear and even seeking out Ciara’s ears if she was near. And then he closed his jaws, tasting the remains of the call on his tongue as he lowered his head once again. He was a wolf; the coyote had little influence on this creature.

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