02-13-2008, 03:01 PM
If the old saying was time fly when your having fun, then the black male must not have had any fun since he joined a pack, before he came back to these lands. He missed the freedom, he missed being able to be reckless and carefree, and not having to worry about who would he hurt in the process. The male was stick of acting like he was wise beyond his years, he was sick about caring for every one else, he wanted to live his life his way, and with the mood he was in now, nothing was going to stop him. He was going to have a night out, with just his good old self.
The male had been out all night, drinking, all night thinking about life, all night thinking about the one that he thought he loved. The black male had found a rather old and stale bag of pot, though there where many of stock of the plant, the male didn't want to sort though all the steams and seeds that would be in the plant. Sitting on the border of the two the male rolled the pot into a joint and sparked the flame that light the joint, and started smoking it. He didn't care about the sent of it, to him it was a blissful smell, that he would eagerly take smelling like this herbal cure for his life, over the smell of the alcohol he had been drinking earlier.
After the joint was smoked and gone, the male stubbed into the lands of Storm, where was she where was Deuce, The male thought that he was in the shadow lands, not the one place where he could have gotten killed at. The male snorted with laughter. This was funny how every thing seemed so different when you where high and drunk. The male stubbed though the lands with out a care. He was in his pack lands so why should he step with a tender foot around the lands. The male poked his head into a few den, she wasn't there. Where the heck was she? Why did ever thing look so different? Where was the common meeting area, where the was pack dens, dude...he was lost, he was lost in the lands that he shouldn't have even dared to come into, and she wasn't even in the lands by the smell of it.
The male had been out all night, drinking, all night thinking about life, all night thinking about the one that he thought he loved. The black male had found a rather old and stale bag of pot, though there where many of stock of the plant, the male didn't want to sort though all the steams and seeds that would be in the plant. Sitting on the border of the two the male rolled the pot into a joint and sparked the flame that light the joint, and started smoking it. He didn't care about the sent of it, to him it was a blissful smell, that he would eagerly take smelling like this herbal cure for his life, over the smell of the alcohol he had been drinking earlier.
After the joint was smoked and gone, the male stubbed into the lands of Storm, where was she where was Deuce, The male thought that he was in the shadow lands, not the one place where he could have gotten killed at. The male snorted with laughter. This was funny how every thing seemed so different when you where high and drunk. The male stubbed though the lands with out a care. He was in his pack lands so why should he step with a tender foot around the lands. The male poked his head into a few den, she wasn't there. Where the heck was she? Why did ever thing look so different? Where was the common meeting area, where the was pack dens, dude...he was lost, he was lost in the lands that he shouldn't have even dared to come into, and she wasn't even in the lands by the smell of it.