10-10-2008, 12:15 AM
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Cercelee’s life was returning to it’s former patterns of sleep, wake, wander, and pack duties. The life of Twilight Vale had burned away to a mere memory, the war was distant past and her leaving Dahlia de Mai was as if it had never been, at least Cercelee felt no guilt and spent no time thinking on that. The only activities Cercelee had not picked up was socialization. Most her meetings and run-ins with any other canines had been accidental passing or appointed business Although Slay, Mew and others had welcomed her home she hadn’t really seen them since, although most their scents were strong enough and so long as they weren’t neglecting the pack, Cercelee could live with their neglect of her social life. Dahlia was the priority, and Cercelee was content with it’s well being for the time, even if the numbers seemed lower than she would have liked.
The sun was beating down on the concrete of the town square the afternoon that Cercelee debated calling a pack meeting. In the end, deciding she really didn’t have much to tell anyone and the pack mates would probably resent being pulled away from whatever it was that occupied them during the day, Cercelee opted to instead just stretch our on one of the long, stone benches that held to create the circle where pack meetings were normally held. Unshifted, as she normally went, Cercelee let her front feet dangle off the edge of the bench, her head resting on her legs and her snout just peeking over the edge of the bench, her eyes fixated on the layer of fallen, colored leaves that decorated the town square park.
Table by Tammi!The sun was beating down on the concrete of the town square the afternoon that Cercelee debated calling a pack meeting. In the end, deciding she really didn’t have much to tell anyone and the pack mates would probably resent being pulled away from whatever it was that occupied them during the day, Cercelee opted to instead just stretch our on one of the long, stone benches that held to create the circle where pack meetings were normally held. Unshifted, as she normally went, Cercelee let her front feet dangle off the edge of the bench, her head resting on her legs and her snout just peeking over the edge of the bench, her eyes fixated on the layer of fallen, colored leaves that decorated the town square park.
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