09-26-2012, 12:29 AM
Rarely had he ever not found shelter before a storm, but he was just getting used to the scents and sights of Cercatori D'Arte. Around him, the wind whipped violently, trees swaying to the left and right. The rain stung at his eyes which partially kept open and it was all he could do to force himself against a leaning tree, his snout lowered toward the ground. Being in his large, secui form turned out to be the saving grace for now as his claws dug into the side of the tree, latching him onto it for dear life. Slight whimpers of fear left his maw, but he couldn't just give up. Not after coming this far, finally joining a pack. He growled at himself for leaving his stuff at that thicket of bushes a ways from here, bright, pleading eyes scraping over the world all around him.
The howl of the wind was all he could hear, the escalating sound of the rain pelting sideways into his body. It was only at this time that he lowered to the ground, his claws parting from the tree. He finally caught his first scent, the smell of horse manure, hay.. He wondered where it came from, why he hadn't noticed it before and that's when the realization hit him. He hadn't exactly been able to meet any of the other pack members yet, none at all other then Skye.
The fear of what he'd just realized washed over him in waves. How could I have been so stupid! But even so, he knew that he had to do something to be seen, to get to safe haven within this hell of a storm. His silken, copper toned was soaked, cooling him without reprieve and only now was he beginning to fill the chills that shivered through his body, making it hard for his teeth not to clatter and clink against the others with the cold that had suddenly stricken him. The instinct to survive, the instinct to live on finally made him rise to his paws, claws clinging the ground in order to stay on his feet and then he rushed forward at a brisk pace, moving on toward that scent that was all but lost on the wind that raged around him.
In an instant, his howl cut through the air, piercing the wind. But he was unsure of whether even it could be heard. He'd never had a loud howl. It's one of the reasons why he didn't use it often. That and the fact that when he was alone, it hadn't been some thing that he'd done often. Maybe once or twice when he'd noticed another wolf coming upon his mother and himself. Water stung against his face, against the lengthened fur that had gathered at his throat upon his transformation, at his pelt. It hurt, like bee stings. One of the only things he hated were bees and right now, the rain reminded him of the tiny little pests. In order to keep himself moving against the hard wind, he pushed against the trees, using them as support as much as blatantly possible, claws burying within their bark. Only when he found himself moving on did he catch a glimmer of hope that possibly he'd make it.
If only he'd gotten to the shop before though. He knew there'd be hell to pay if he didn't soon enough.
The howl of the wind was all he could hear, the escalating sound of the rain pelting sideways into his body. It was only at this time that he lowered to the ground, his claws parting from the tree. He finally caught his first scent, the smell of horse manure, hay.. He wondered where it came from, why he hadn't noticed it before and that's when the realization hit him. He hadn't exactly been able to meet any of the other pack members yet, none at all other then Skye.
The fear of what he'd just realized washed over him in waves. How could I have been so stupid! But even so, he knew that he had to do something to be seen, to get to safe haven within this hell of a storm. His silken, copper toned was soaked, cooling him without reprieve and only now was he beginning to fill the chills that shivered through his body, making it hard for his teeth not to clatter and clink against the others with the cold that had suddenly stricken him. The instinct to survive, the instinct to live on finally made him rise to his paws, claws clinging the ground in order to stay on his feet and then he rushed forward at a brisk pace, moving on toward that scent that was all but lost on the wind that raged around him.
In an instant, his howl cut through the air, piercing the wind. But he was unsure of whether even it could be heard. He'd never had a loud howl. It's one of the reasons why he didn't use it often. That and the fact that when he was alone, it hadn't been some thing that he'd done often. Maybe once or twice when he'd noticed another wolf coming upon his mother and himself. Water stung against his face, against the lengthened fur that had gathered at his throat upon his transformation, at his pelt. It hurt, like bee stings. One of the only things he hated were bees and right now, the rain reminded him of the tiny little pests. In order to keep himself moving against the hard wind, he pushed against the trees, using them as support as much as blatantly possible, claws burying within their bark. Only when he found himself moving on did he catch a glimmer of hope that possibly he'd make it.
If only he'd gotten to the shop before though. He knew there'd be hell to pay if he didn't soon enough.