05-13-2009, 03:22 PM
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He was sober for the first time in weeks since losing the puppies, and had been for days. Somewhere in that drunken blur of time Whinnifred had taken her leave of Phoenix Valley. Lysander had emerged one morning to find a note tacked to his door, but her scent wasn’t all too fresh. How many days had he stayed holed up in his cabin, draining bottle after bottle? How many days had it been since she left? He wasn’t sure. The note did not explain why she was leaving, only stated that she was. Lysander was partly amused at the fact that he had lasted longer than she. The women had seemed like a stable wolf, seemed dedicated, had even offered up her womb to incubate children of his. Now it all seemed so silly, and Lysander smiled smugly as he crumpled up the note and flipped it over his shoulder. “Au revoir.” His voice echoed out at no one and he pushed the women from his mind for good.
Now he was finally going out, being useful, for the first time in a long time. Although he knew the pack kept cattle and probably had a store of meat it seemed to easy to him, to lazy. Nor had he participated in any of their pack hunts, he didn’t see the use when he could just go about setting snares and dead falls and come back to collect his meals. Six rabbits and a quail were the fruit of his labors now and he carried them back towards his home. Dropping them at his cabin door he moved away and set about collecting wood for a fire. Smoked meat would keep for a while, though the rabbits wouldn’t keep him fed for too long he hopes that the dead fall would produce something soon. In the mean time he set about to prepare his meat, every once in a while looking up and about to make sure none of the nosey pack members were out and about.
He was sober for the first time in weeks since losing the puppies, and had been for days. Somewhere in that drunken blur of time Whinnifred had taken her leave of Phoenix Valley. Lysander had emerged one morning to find a note tacked to his door, but her scent wasn’t all too fresh. How many days had he stayed holed up in his cabin, draining bottle after bottle? How many days had it been since she left? He wasn’t sure. The note did not explain why she was leaving, only stated that she was. Lysander was partly amused at the fact that he had lasted longer than she. The women had seemed like a stable wolf, seemed dedicated, had even offered up her womb to incubate children of his. Now it all seemed so silly, and Lysander smiled smugly as he crumpled up the note and flipped it over his shoulder. “Au revoir.” His voice echoed out at no one and he pushed the women from his mind for good.
Now he was finally going out, being useful, for the first time in a long time. Although he knew the pack kept cattle and probably had a store of meat it seemed to easy to him, to lazy. Nor had he participated in any of their pack hunts, he didn’t see the use when he could just go about setting snares and dead falls and come back to collect his meals. Six rabbits and a quail were the fruit of his labors now and he carried them back towards his home. Dropping them at his cabin door he moved away and set about collecting wood for a fire. Smoked meat would keep for a while, though the rabbits wouldn’t keep him fed for too long he hopes that the dead fall would produce something soon. In the mean time he set about to prepare his meat, every once in a while looking up and about to make sure none of the nosey pack members were out and about.