04-07-2009, 11:36 PM
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Asleep in the den he had constructed for himself and Siobhan, Ezekiel had been in a deep, dreamless sleep. Through working his body so much the results were beginning to show; his shoulders had broadened and his weight had indeed gone up. Not all that long ago he had chopped off the dreadlocks and his hair, clipped short, stayed out of his face during training with the woad-banded warrior from Dahlia. He had yet to inform his father of these meetings and would not do so until necessary (which, though he did not know it, would be shortly hereafter).
Waking at the sound of his father’s voice, the coyote blinked sleepily and yawned. He stretched and shook the sleep from his eyes, then sat up. Siobhan was gone, though this was not unexpected. It was mid-afternoon, and by all accounts he should have been awake much earlier. The ache in his shoulders reminded him why this was not the case, and he rose to his feet sluggishly before making his way out.
By the time he had arrived everyone was present. Except, he noted with slight distaste, Siobhan. Frowning at this fact, the golden-eyed boy spotted his sister near a peculiar looking fellow. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat next to Talitha and winced only slightly at another pang of complaint from his muscles. [/html]