12-13-2008, 02:59 AM
Thanks for starting. 
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It had started out as the group of litter mates making a mess and playing in the snow and had evolved into something more. An adventure, a game of hide and seek; whatever they had been playing was long lost on him. Which exactly described Salem's thoughts as he ventured deeper into the small copse of trees. He was lost. At first a sense of dreadful panic had seeped into him, but he had tried hard to will it away. He tried to be like the little boy who never aged, that Peter Pan fellow that Geneva had read aloud about. Peter Pan would have never been scared of some skeleton-fingered forest where the snow clung tightly to the trees. Peter Pan would have never been afraid of the long shadows and the frozen brambles.
So those kind of thoughts kept his demeanour calm, but unfortunately did not bestow upon him the intelligence to figure out from whence he came. For the longest time, Salem worked through the snow and found that the drifts were not nearly as deep as they were out across the roving plains and hills near the lake, but he also went in circles. Before too long, having a good nose or eyes to follow his own footprints wouldn't have mattered because he had gone in every direction at least thrice. And then it had started to get dark out and as the mid-afternoon twilight descended upon the pack territory, he fully expected Naniko to be along to collect him soon.
She'd scold him for getting carried away and wandering, he'd cry about being lost, and soon he'd be nestled against her and his other mother and his siblings back in their den before no time. Dinner would be at hand and like all good babies eventually do, he would fall into a fitful sleep. Salem's life was a routine. An uncoordinated one, but a routine nonetheless. However, what that itinerary did not have listed for him today was to meet someone new. The inky darkness of a figure sitting tall against the inset of the new found copse edge intrigued him. The fact that this skinny, gangly, big ear wolf (he was unfamiliar with coyotes) was as dark as he drew him in like a moth to a flame.
So he walked right up and sat beside her.
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knowledge locked in a tower — barons will hold the key
It had started out as the group of litter mates making a mess and playing in the snow and had evolved into something more. An adventure, a game of hide and seek; whatever they had been playing was long lost on him. Which exactly described Salem's thoughts as he ventured deeper into the small copse of trees. He was lost. At first a sense of dreadful panic had seeped into him, but he had tried hard to will it away. He tried to be like the little boy who never aged, that Peter Pan fellow that Geneva had read aloud about. Peter Pan would have never been scared of some skeleton-fingered forest where the snow clung tightly to the trees. Peter Pan would have never been afraid of the long shadows and the frozen brambles.
So those kind of thoughts kept his demeanour calm, but unfortunately did not bestow upon him the intelligence to figure out from whence he came. For the longest time, Salem worked through the snow and found that the drifts were not nearly as deep as they were out across the roving plains and hills near the lake, but he also went in circles. Before too long, having a good nose or eyes to follow his own footprints wouldn't have mattered because he had gone in every direction at least thrice. And then it had started to get dark out and as the mid-afternoon twilight descended upon the pack territory, he fully expected Naniko to be along to collect him soon.
She'd scold him for getting carried away and wandering, he'd cry about being lost, and soon he'd be nestled against her and his other mother and his siblings back in their den before no time. Dinner would be at hand and like all good babies eventually do, he would fall into a fitful sleep. Salem's life was a routine. An uncoordinated one, but a routine nonetheless. However, what that itinerary did not have listed for him today was to meet someone new. The inky darkness of a figure sitting tall against the inset of the new found copse edge intrigued him. The fact that this skinny, gangly, big ear wolf (he was unfamiliar with coyotes) was as dark as he drew him in like a moth to a flame.
So he walked right up and sat beside her.
but if knowledge is power — know this is tyranny