06-18-2009, 01:19 AM
The male heaved a sigh as he took in the sights. He should have known better than to try and get back here, to this plane of existance...but he had to know what had happened to everyone. He couldn't rest without knowing it. Where was Gibraltar, and Phasma? Where had little Naniko and Pontiac gone off to? The orange-furred wolf sat at the boundary, the in-between point that divided the new lands from the old ones. He could see that something very terrible had happened to the old lands...something dark and twisted. They had been turned black, all burnt and ashen. And from his exploration of the place, it seemed as if all of it was that way. Not just a portion. He wondered about how many had made it over the mountain and how many had perished in the flames. It had been over a year since the lands had been taken by the fires and at least two since his own timely death. So much must have happened since then.
Emerald eyes closed for a moment, and he shook out his pelt as he stood up. It was an instinctual act, not built on actual need; he was a spirit, and nothing from this world could cling to him as thus. He started over the mountain, muzzle pointed toward the new lands. He would investigate and find out what had become of everyone he had known before. He was visible, choosing to remain solid so that he might be found by someone in this new territory.
Emerald eyes closed for a moment, and he shook out his pelt as he stood up. It was an instinctual act, not built on actual need; he was a spirit, and nothing from this world could cling to him as thus. He started over the mountain, muzzle pointed toward the new lands. He would investigate and find out what had become of everyone he had known before. He was visible, choosing to remain solid so that he might be found by someone in this new territory.