ooc: Postdated to March 28th, if that's okay!
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
A drop of water struck the tip of his nose, instantly snapping him awake. The big male was breathing hard, pale eyes wide as he tried to figure out where he was. He must have fallen asleep on his way home... The scrawny cottontail rabbit he had snagged as a surprise for his mate was now crushed beneath his body. Still edible, but hardly presentable. Grumbling his disapproval at the muddy fur he was now sporting, Slay struggled to his wide paws, still befuddled from the narcoleptic spell he had just suffered. It was different this time, though. He had a dream.
Some wolves dreamt, others didn't. That was no big deal. But it mattered to Slay, since he slipped between the waking and the dreaming world so frequently. Everything was a blur, if he didn't pay attention. He had been relieved when, after his acceptance to this pack, the dizzying nightmares had ceased. He hadn't thought much of it, until the somber conversation with Cwmfen... Her spiritual beliefs were too similar to the ones his father had preached to simply ignore their meaning. It had both intrigued and frightened him, and it was part of the reason he had not worked up the nerve to ask for her help. Perhaps he really was denying some part of himself, trying to pretend that his past did not exist.
Sighing heavily, the black-daubed arctic wolf scooped the rabbit carcass in his jaws and padded onward beneath the boughs of the frozen grapevines, intending to leave the kill at the church he shared with the snowy-white Rosea. She was the only one he could trust, really. It wasn't intentional; it was just a side-effect of falling asleep without warning. Most wolves didn't have the patience to wait for him to wake up, get ahold of his surroundings, and pick up the conversation again. Somehow Cercelee alone did, wonderful queen that she was. He felt like he could use some friends, though. Staying in this pack had lent some maturity to his views, but also a touch of bitterness. He had wasted too many years of his life. "...At least spring is finally coming," he mumbled around the mouthful of prey. Flayra had left, Rath had joined. Nature kept everything balanced... most of the time. But he was still worried about Firefly's pups missing, and the dark rumors about Svara's eyesight. His dream had been about violence and chaos; he could only hope this was the worst of it.
