09-08-2008, 09:02 PM
Emory had made himself into a pack. Three years of independence and now he was locked down to a place that he would learn to be loyal to. He wasn't sure how this would come along, or how soon, but he knew it'd have to happen eventually. There were no half-ass jobs worth doing in Emory's eyes. He told himself he'd find a pack, and stick with it. If anything, he'd /try/ to make this work. Challenges were always fun, eh? Though, he was beginning to become fond of this place. I mean, the scenery was pleasant to look at. The fragrances were beautiful. And so far, no one had given him any problem. Although, he'd never really run into anyone to /give/ him problems. That goes to say, no one had given him any reason to be any happier either. But, that was alright, Emory had a content feel all around. Wasn't he just the happy man. Er.. wolf?
Today, Emory found himself trotting through some fields, the forest, different terrains. Just learning the territory was the important thing right now. No use in getting lost in your own home. Ha, "home". What a funny thing to be adding to his personal vocabulary that attained to him. He'd get used to it. He would.. yes. The thing about this place was having to adapt to permanent werewolf territory and structures. He was so used to the scruff of life that most wolves were brought up with before the mutilations began dominating. The gray wolf never really had a problem with werewolves joining the species list, it had just never been really pushed on him to get used to their lifestyles. Life was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Golly gee..
And then, as if the day couldn't get any more interesting, BAM. Like a wrecking ball, he caught a scent in the soft, lush grass at his paws. Well, that was a bit exaggerated. But the male was still curious to meet someone new from the pack. He needed to get himself some friends before he did anything else today. Or, enemies. Acquaintances of whatever sort, he needed communication. Just.. /preferably/ in a non-hostile sense, please and thanks. The wolf smiled to himself playfully, wondering why he let his mind talk to him the way it did. Had he been alone for that long? Really? Ha. Switching his choice of direction into the one that he'd caught, the wolf picked up his pace and lowered his nose to the ground, tail bouncing lightly behind him. Follow the yellow brick road. What? Wrong species. Bad wolf. Go eat an old lady as your punishment. The four year old laughed at his inside joke, and continued on, enjoying his mingled thoughts, as youthful and pointless as they were.
As the scent strengthened, a few things became clearer in Emory's mind. He was tracking a female. But not the one he'd met the first time he'd set paw in these lands. There were other scents, sweet, but not appetizing, scents. Fruits? Most probable, he was sure. Squirrels, and.. other small things would be attracted to them. Good. That meant lunch. No pun intended. Picking up his head, Emory was sure whatever he'd been looking for would be within eyesight now, and to his favor, it was. Or, she was, now that he saw her. Definitely someone from the pack, of higher status? Most likely, he'd only gotten in recently. In da hood, even. Alas, he plastered a small, yet slightly friendly smile on his maw and strode forward, slowing his pace considerably. What was she doing? Gathering? What.. the fruits? Huh. I guess there /was/ a pun intended for earlier, how quaint. He stopped several paces from her, looking up, like he usually had to do these days to have conversation.
"Hi," he said, hearing the smile in his voice.
Word Count: 647
Today, Emory found himself trotting through some fields, the forest, different terrains. Just learning the territory was the important thing right now. No use in getting lost in your own home. Ha, "home". What a funny thing to be adding to his personal vocabulary that attained to him. He'd get used to it. He would.. yes. The thing about this place was having to adapt to permanent werewolf territory and structures. He was so used to the scruff of life that most wolves were brought up with before the mutilations began dominating. The gray wolf never really had a problem with werewolves joining the species list, it had just never been really pushed on him to get used to their lifestyles. Life was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Golly gee..
And then, as if the day couldn't get any more interesting, BAM. Like a wrecking ball, he caught a scent in the soft, lush grass at his paws. Well, that was a bit exaggerated. But the male was still curious to meet someone new from the pack. He needed to get himself some friends before he did anything else today. Or, enemies. Acquaintances of whatever sort, he needed communication. Just.. /preferably/ in a non-hostile sense, please and thanks. The wolf smiled to himself playfully, wondering why he let his mind talk to him the way it did. Had he been alone for that long? Really? Ha. Switching his choice of direction into the one that he'd caught, the wolf picked up his pace and lowered his nose to the ground, tail bouncing lightly behind him. Follow the yellow brick road. What? Wrong species. Bad wolf. Go eat an old lady as your punishment. The four year old laughed at his inside joke, and continued on, enjoying his mingled thoughts, as youthful and pointless as they were.
As the scent strengthened, a few things became clearer in Emory's mind. He was tracking a female. But not the one he'd met the first time he'd set paw in these lands. There were other scents, sweet, but not appetizing, scents. Fruits? Most probable, he was sure. Squirrels, and.. other small things would be attracted to them. Good. That meant lunch. No pun intended. Picking up his head, Emory was sure whatever he'd been looking for would be within eyesight now, and to his favor, it was. Or, she was, now that he saw her. Definitely someone from the pack, of higher status? Most likely, he'd only gotten in recently. In da hood, even. Alas, he plastered a small, yet slightly friendly smile on his maw and strode forward, slowing his pace considerably. What was she doing? Gathering? What.. the fruits? Huh. I guess there /was/ a pun intended for earlier, how quaint. He stopped several paces from her, looking up, like he usually had to do these days to have conversation.
"Hi," he said, hearing the smile in his voice.
Word Count: 647