08-24-2012, 02:31 PM
He was practicing the letters Aro had taught him. The coyote was proving as sensitive about his writing as he was about his missing tongue, making sure that no one was around when he practiced. When he did write to someone, he wanted them to take him seriously. After his last attempt at writing coming out in a harsh black scratch he lost his temper, chucking the charcoal deep through the woods. No one could read that!
Still infuriated he stood up, and began attacking a nearby tree. It was just a sapling, bending against the hard strikes. His calloused knuckles stood up fairly well to the harsh treatment, soon changing from just restless strikes to an actual pattern, falling into a rhythm. He might as well take the chance to improve. Each strike reverberated through the woods, Raoth refusing to let go, despite the fact that damaging a tree was a pointless and difficult endeavor, only a couple chips coming off it.
Still infuriated he stood up, and began attacking a nearby tree. It was just a sapling, bending against the hard strikes. His calloused knuckles stood up fairly well to the harsh treatment, soon changing from just restless strikes to an actual pattern, falling into a rhythm. He might as well take the chance to improve. Each strike reverberated through the woods, Raoth refusing to let go, despite the fact that damaging a tree was a pointless and difficult endeavor, only a couple chips coming off it.