09-16-2008, 10:21 AM
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hel! set in the three moons' ranch library. dated on the 13th.
I'm trying to get used to playing him as a were, but I never have before. Just letting you know. wc402 -- Jefferson was adapting. A number of days had already passed since his acceptance into the pack, and while at first the male had presumed that he would grow bored in a number of hours there, the wide and variable packlands had indeed kept him busy--and it wasn't because it took him so long to walk from one place to another. He'd actually found some comfort at the ranch for a number of days, as the animals there had grown quite fond of him (other than the bull, of course) since the wolf was too gimpy to knock any of them down anyway. The hay outside was perfectly comfortable for the wolf who slept on rocks for years of his life, and most mornings a sheep had nestled up beside him and provided some extra warmth. It was well needed, of course, as his lack of body fat and lack of pretty much everything else had left him with little self-provided heat, and the wolf was too prideful to sleep in a building. Not to mention, the stars seemed so much clearer at night on the Phoenix Valley packlands. The wolf had wandered into the building at some point that day and found himself delighted by the plentiful array of books, stacked on shelves. Jefferson had never been much of a reading fellow, but the opportunity opened up to him and he reached for the shelves and retrieved books one by one with his good arm. He had trouble balancing them in only one hand and normally had to set them on a nearby table in order to open them up. Truth be told, he could remember having some reading skills at some point, but now plenty of the words had faded out from memory. He could read them, but he didn't know what they were anymore. Libraries and books weren't exactly available to wandering loners who were more focused on finding food than good literature. Jefferson made a face in recalling this, and scoffed at himself as he placed a book back on its shelf. Four years old and he could hardly read anymore... a shame. The waned memory removed the ability to read well, the gimpy arm didn't help with getting the books, and the one eye wasn't any aid with looking at them, either. His tattered ears twitched with discomfort and disappointment. What a piece of work he'd become. |