mighty oaks from little acorns grow

Skoll Haskel · 03-15-2012, 10:06 AM

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SKOLL ART BY MEL! This thread is welcome to anyone and everyone; pack mates come and see himm! +5

The days were growing longer and filled with sunlight. Snowmelt washed into streams which deepened into rivers coursing through the territory. Buds began to push from branches, and the sweep of white and brown turned into greens and the brilliant colors of early flowers. A warm breeze blew through the leaves, for once not carrying cold snow on its skirts.

Spring had come, and of all the pack, it was Skoll Haskel who felt it the most.

The boy was blissful. From the moment he woke to a warm morning, stepping out of the house under the sun’s glow, he’d smiled brightly and begun to run. The earth felt spongy under his growing paws, and the sunlight seeped into his skin, causing his fur to prickle pleasantly. The warmth gave the golden wolfdog new energy, and he did not stop running for the entire day, pausing only to skid to a halt near a sparkling stream. It trickled through the sparse edge of the woods, trickling until it curled near the roots of a tree. Debris swirled in that part of the water, turning the pool black, and he slapped at it until his pale paw was dirty and some of the old fallen leaves were free of their swirling.

Geese honked as they flew overhead, and Skoll chased after their shadows for a while. Even for not having eaten anything that day, he thought that he could run forever. There was a tingling in his shoulders and haunches, and he needed to run it out, needed to keep running until he was exhausted and collapsed in the green grass.

He inhaled deeply, powerful lungs taking in the odor of sun-warmed stone. His heart was pounding, and as he breathed in again, his rising and falling chest and flanks seemed to ache. It was not a painful sensation, but one that had him running all over again—with determination if not anger. It was impossible to be anger when he was so full of joy, laughter bubbling from his jaws as he galloped along.

But his bliss had to eventually give in to confusion. No matter what he did, there was still that same tingling in his haunches. Letting out a growl, the young hybrid spun and tried to snap at his hips and shoulders, turning in a few circles before setting out at a sprint. Anyone who caught a glimpse of the boy flying around the entire pack lands would likely be startled by his sudden appearance, but if he passed anyone, he paid them no mind. His focus was on running, on feeling his lungs and heart work harder, on relieving that crawling sensation that was beginning to encompass his whole body.

At last, he had to stop—for want of air rather than energy. He was still tingling like a flower waiting to open to the sunlight, but the sunlight was pouring all around him. He wanted to stretch up and catch it. He pushed with his forelegs, balancing on his hinds, looking through squinted green eyes at the edge of the yellow disc’s glow. Was it possible to capture sunlight? To just reach out with your hand, curl your fingers around it? He scowled and stretched, the tingling turning into sparks all throughout his body.

Skoll closed his fist, and then blinked, and then happy bursts of screaming and laughter exploded from his chest.

Once again he set out at a sprint, his two legs working hard, his arms held out for balance with grey claws occasionally raking across a tree as he ran. He continued to make an insane amount of noise, whooping and hollering and barking and howling. The wind breezed through messy blonde hair, blowing it back from his grinning face, as his tail was caught like a banner and snapped back with wide wags.

“I shifted!” Skoll Haskel screamed for all of Cour des Miracles to hear.

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