Making Waves

[Alistair Gibson]

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8D Form: Luperci Area: Adlarto'K? pgp: 3+

Hmm. This place at least had some form of water. It seemed to be a lake, telling by the way the water moved. But maybe...Just maybe there was wood around here that he could possibly use for a surfboard. Alistair moved towards the trees that surrounded, feeling the bark. His hand ran over the bark, feeling the rough texture of the trees with a thoughtful look. He moved away from tree to tree, his face increasingly becoming more conflicted and frustrated. He finally just removed his hand roughly from one tree, cursing silently beneath his breath. It seemed suitable wood was not here, either. But maybe, if he experimented enough...He could find one that worked! Maybe he didn't know a type of wood up here that could possibly work...Oh, how he hoped for that.

Alistair started with a particularly large tree, one that he didn't know the name of. He pierced through the bark (which was surprisingly soft) and soon got in deeper, to what he wanted. He continued to chip away, until he finally got to the area that he needed; near the core, but not exactly there. He chipped out a nice sized piece, one that he couldn't stand on, of course. He moved towards the water, tossing it in, hoping for good results. However, it became flimsy and soggy, despite floating. The rest of the trees had the same results, causing his curses and sighs of anguish to only get louder. Why couldn't Paulownias grow out here?!

After five tries with no luck, Ali sunk to the ground near the lake, eyes narrowed and full of depression. He put his knees in front of his face as he sat, crossing his forearms and placing his face in his arms. A long, heavy sigh came from his chest, erupting from his mouth with obvious disappointment. Would he ever build a surfboard? Would he ever ride the waves again?

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[X'yrin Exultare]

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ooc: WUV YOU!

Setting: ???

Location: Adlarto'K

Form: Optime

There was no longer a beginning and an end as far as her mind could perceive. The events of the days, now weeks before seemed to blur together in a haze, perpetually blinding her from both present and future. She was consistently walking through a dense fog with no end in sight. Her duties had fallen victim, forgotten in lieu of this unflattering depression that dulled her contented self to a useless unfeeling mass.

It was only by the ancestor's will that she found the motivation to leave her den and walk the territory. She did not feel the necessity, nor the desire but did so none the less to ensure her body would not fall to atrophy. There was no longer solace to be found in the rock gardens as before. The land there was marked as a realm of conflict, of a near mistake she would have made when victim to an impassioned hatred. She could not even look at it now so far in the distance without her heart lurching in pain. And so she turned her eyes to the Adlarto'K instead hoping that the reflective pool of the shallows would grant her comfort as they had before. It was difficult to say, but she could try. If there was nothing to be had, then at least she would be able to lounge.

Coming upon the sandy shores she spied the striking gleam of radiant hues topping the soft creme form of her pack brother. He looked quite displeased and her ears perked in curiosity; perhaps the first genuine expression of such in a long time since the dispute. Adorned in not but her own golden fur and wild auburn mane she approached him, sounding her presence with a soft, concerned growl. "Alistair..." her voice was faint from lack of use but as she spoke on strength came to it but remained as soft as usual. "...are you alright? You look unhappy..."

325 words.

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