08-04-2009, 08:24 PM
[html]
http://i155.photobucket.com/albums/s304 ... -table.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-bottom:235px; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#000000; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#FDBC43; line-height:16px">Backdated to a few days ago, if that's ok? Sorry this took so long, life exploded for a bit. D: Just for reference, white text = thoughts ^^
------The wolfish hybrid had fancied a battle with Poseidon, a test of his strength against the angry seas which were infinitely fuelled by day after day of rain. He'd quickly found himself with a formidable adversary--unshifted or even half-shifted he stood no chance. As such, with two arms and two legs he fought the against the strong pull of the current and the crashing waves, though he dared not stray further than a hundred yards from the shoreline. The exercise was draining; it always was, but here it was relatively short lived. All at once he was underwater and when he surfaced, he was acutely aware of the sting of salt water in his nose. Enough of that.
------Fighting his way to shore, Anselm crawled up the coast and shook vigorously just as another wave threatened to drag him back out to sea. Apparently Poseidon didn't like to be taunted so much during his moment of glory. The red-eyed beast shot an angry glance at the indifferent ocean and loped further along out of the reach of the pounding waves. Even here the ground was squishy and moist beneath his feet... it seemed like damn near the entire country might be underwater, sooner or later. Fortunately, he mused as he ascended the rocky slopes closer to his den, Inferni's elevation held more than a tactical advantage: it also would be their salvation during this blasted weather.
------Initially he'd intended to call it a day but just as he neared his cave a strange, garbled sound caught his attention. He straightened and stood on two legs as he surveyed the area--ahead in the distance (further down the hill and closer to the Dampwoods) was an unfortunate grouse with a mangled wing. Dropping back to four legs he moved at a comfortable pace toward it; it did its best to half-run, half-flap away, but eventually Anselm was able to simply reach out and grab it mid-flight. Standing straight again, he plucked the feathers out nonchalantly and let them fall to the ground. He then held the bird as one might hold a roasted chicken and began to munch appreciatively on the fresh meat. Already two-thirds of the way to the border, he decided to do a quick scout of the perimeter while enjoying his meal before heading home. The golden male headed due southeast, red eyes blinking through the rain attentively as he walked.
------The wolfish hybrid had fancied a battle with Poseidon, a test of his strength against the angry seas which were infinitely fuelled by day after day of rain. He'd quickly found himself with a formidable adversary--unshifted or even half-shifted he stood no chance. As such, with two arms and two legs he fought the against the strong pull of the current and the crashing waves, though he dared not stray further than a hundred yards from the shoreline. The exercise was draining; it always was, but here it was relatively short lived. All at once he was underwater and when he surfaced, he was acutely aware of the sting of salt water in his nose. Enough of that.
------Fighting his way to shore, Anselm crawled up the coast and shook vigorously just as another wave threatened to drag him back out to sea. Apparently Poseidon didn't like to be taunted so much during his moment of glory. The red-eyed beast shot an angry glance at the indifferent ocean and loped further along out of the reach of the pounding waves. Even here the ground was squishy and moist beneath his feet... it seemed like damn near the entire country might be underwater, sooner or later. Fortunately, he mused as he ascended the rocky slopes closer to his den, Inferni's elevation held more than a tactical advantage: it also would be their salvation during this blasted weather.
------Initially he'd intended to call it a day but just as he neared his cave a strange, garbled sound caught his attention. He straightened and stood on two legs as he surveyed the area--ahead in the distance (further down the hill and closer to the Dampwoods) was an unfortunate grouse with a mangled wing. Dropping back to four legs he moved at a comfortable pace toward it; it did its best to half-run, half-flap away, but eventually Anselm was able to simply reach out and grab it mid-flight. Standing straight again, he plucked the feathers out nonchalantly and let them fall to the ground. He then held the bird as one might hold a roasted chicken and began to munch appreciatively on the fresh meat. Already two-thirds of the way to the border, he decided to do a quick scout of the perimeter while enjoying his meal before heading home. The golden male headed due southeast, red eyes blinking through the rain attentively as he walked.