07-22-2012, 11:48 PM
(WC: 361 Still getting used to using Harv, so I apologize for poor quality. Hopefully it'll get better soon. ;u; )
It was in ruins, but it was something. Something that held some sort of relation to what he was used to, some place he could feel even the least bit comfortable exploring.
It wasn't much.
He wasn't sure if it was best to stay where he felt most familiar, or to venture off elsewhere, really starting his goal of having a new, fresh start to life, forgetting the past and the scars it left.
But that was easier said than done.
The red merle male had been involved in a gang in his homeland, a group of rough, merciless, fearless men with a thirst for blood and money. It was nothing to them, the simple life... Why be content with so little when rising to power could give you the world?
Harvey Butler was once one of those thinkers. One of those ruthless brutes who would easily end one's life to enrich his own.
But he was done now.
At least, he wanted to be.
The dog was ready to move on, finding a new land, a new home, and, hopefully, he'd maybe come across some new friends. Anything was better than what he had. Riches and the high life were nothing when the toll of what it took to obtain them weighed so heavily on his merle shoulders that it was becoming enough to break his back.
Because of this strange isolation in the wasteland of a city, Harvey had no idea where he was, or where he was going. Towers brought back memories of him strolling through the cities back home. He didn't know where he was, but he wasn't home anymore.
Outta make the best o' it, mate... He muttered to himself, his accent a strange combination of British dialects he'd acquired through traveling and through people we dared ever associate himself with. This is 'ome now... Where ever this is...
Alone and without any idea as to what else to do, Harvey sat, looking down to reveal his new 'chair' being a rusted hood to worn vehicle. Didn't matter to him what it was; his feet were growing sore, and he needed a rest.
He sighed heavily.
It was in ruins, but it was something. Something that held some sort of relation to what he was used to, some place he could feel even the least bit comfortable exploring.
It wasn't much.
He wasn't sure if it was best to stay where he felt most familiar, or to venture off elsewhere, really starting his goal of having a new, fresh start to life, forgetting the past and the scars it left.
But that was easier said than done.
The red merle male had been involved in a gang in his homeland, a group of rough, merciless, fearless men with a thirst for blood and money. It was nothing to them, the simple life... Why be content with so little when rising to power could give you the world?
Harvey Butler was once one of those thinkers. One of those ruthless brutes who would easily end one's life to enrich his own.
But he was done now.
At least, he wanted to be.
The dog was ready to move on, finding a new land, a new home, and, hopefully, he'd maybe come across some new friends. Anything was better than what he had. Riches and the high life were nothing when the toll of what it took to obtain them weighed so heavily on his merle shoulders that it was becoming enough to break his back.
Because of this strange isolation in the wasteland of a city, Harvey had no idea where he was, or where he was going. Towers brought back memories of him strolling through the cities back home. He didn't know where he was, but he wasn't home anymore.
Outta make the best o' it, mate... He muttered to himself, his accent a strange combination of British dialects he'd acquired through traveling and through people we dared ever associate himself with. This is 'ome now... Where ever this is...
Alone and without any idea as to what else to do, Harvey sat, looking down to reveal his new 'chair' being a rusted hood to worn vehicle. Didn't matter to him what it was; his feet were growing sore, and he needed a rest.
He sighed heavily.