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Set on January 5th, if that's alright? Decided to get it started a little early.
A chill wind blew through the quiet ruin of what had once been a hive of human activity. The sun was high in the sky, struggling to show its face through the gray veil of oppressive cloud, heralding midday to all those that dwelt in its suffocated glory. Skoll had been fortunate enough to make an early catch today, and had wondered what he would do with the rest of his day. He had spent a lot of time in the man-city, had met many people here, the most recent of which had been Matrix, the daughter of his friend, Twilight. Skoll sat on the hood of a dilapidated truck, faded blue slowly being overtaken by the orange-red of rust, a wide but thin book open in both hands.
The book was filled mostly with pictures, though there was small script underlying each image. Fantastic were the depictions there, with terrible multi-headed serpents, great winged wyrms with jaws enwreathed in flame, and fell human forms, sharp of tooth and pale of skin. He could not read most of the descriptions, so far he had only just done his best to try and say the names of each of these creatures of human legend. He was not having much luck, even then. The names meant little to him, for he had no similar stories to relate...it seemed as if most human and wolf legend derived from different sources.
Looking up from his book, he let his eyes slide across the peaceful ruin. He did not associate this place with peace...it usually bore a somewhat eeries quality, but there were too many useful things in the place to leave it alone. His axes came from this place, as well as his carving knife. There was even a chance that the cultist knife that he'd taken from between his own ribs had been salvaged from this very place...but, considering that they hadn't struck Inferni, Clouded Tears, or Jaded Shadows, before Storm, he found it unlikely that they'd spent much time south of his old pack.
The lone wolf, competent as he was, did sometimes miss the routine of Storm. Disciplined and strict with himself, he had fashioned a new routine, much the same as the old, but without any real responsibilities, he never new what new surprises life was going to bring him from day to day. Breathing deep, he wondered what life would bring him today. Freedom had its price, but there was something to be said for being your own master.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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The 5th is fine. Sorry for making you wait Void, life has decided to kick my ass.
Exploring, taking some treasures back to his den in Jaded Shadows and returning the next day had been Sedition’s routine now for the past three days. It had heralded excellent enough treasures and a few new friends but nothing really to write home about. Well, except for the violin, he had written back to Berowick and told them of the instrument. Vorraussetzung had written back by way of Daniels (her crow) and congratulated her brother. It wasn’t the same as actually being there but it aided the occasional pang of homesickness. Now he was back in Concrete Jungle and ready to wander through the ruins.
Leather vest from home clung to his shoulders and sides, branching down into a tassel that had been braided by his other siblings before him and his older sister had went on their adventures. As he walked he absent-mindedly fingered the thinning tassels. The plan had been to just explore, grab a few treasures and head back but that was until the middle-child Wick had stumbled upon the scent of a lone wolf within the Human Jungle. He had met one from Inferni and some from his fellow Shadows but none of the lone wolves had graced his presence. The lack of a pack didn’t bother him, for sometime he had traced the borders of Bleeding Souls and would have been mistaken as such. Besides he wasn’t one to get angry that often or that violently. Few would realize that he was the legendary Salvaged Eternity’s cousin. His optime form ambled through the paths and ruins before seeing the scent’s creator. It appeared he was reading a book and he smiled and came a little closer.
Clearing his throat he gave a wider smile and a small nod of his head in respect to the other male. "What’cha reading?” Although he was an artist, books often fascinated him – especially those with pictures.
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No big deal, a wave of real life hit me over the weekend, too.
Skoll had caught a whisper of the other on the wind a short time before his appearance, but unsure of the scent's owner he had refrained from reacting immediately. He would keep himself loose, but on his feet, in case of an attempt at foul play. When the gray wolf did arrive, the grizzled warrior could detect no sign of real danger, and so he let himself relax somewhat. That wasn't to say that this wolf could not be dangerous if he wanted to be, for sure, but mentality was as big an indicator of danger as skill, and this wolf did not behave in a manner which suggested he wanted trouble.
Skoll returned the stranger's nod, before turning the book so that he could see its pages. The hydra stared out at him, a dozen vicious eyes gleaming hungrily within the monstrous depiction. If the other wolf was a reader, there wouldn't be much within to challenge him. Each image dominated the page, with a compliment of a single paragraph in small text just underneath to describe the mythological creature in the drawing.
"I think that it's a book on human myth, but I can't be sure. I don't think that any of these things could have existed quite like they appear here. I'm sort of a collector of wolven myth, and the creatures in the book have the same sort of feel as what I've gathered from the various canine cultures I've encountered...though I can't read the captions very well." He was a fighter first and foremost, but stories were the one thing that he had retained from his childhood. His most innocent pleasure, a fragment of a life he'd had no choice but to leave behind. The steel in his human bag and the war-torn state of his flesh made testament to what had replaced it...he couldn't help but feel that to some degree, he had lost out on that exchange. "I'm Skoll."
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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Hope you're okay now.  Caption taken from dictionary.die.net.
He took in the appearance of the elder wolf and sat down reflexively. Sitting was a far less threatening stance and although he showed no aggression often those that still remained in four-legged form appreciated the show. It happened without thought and after all his legs were tired from walking. Seated he adjusted his vest and crossed his furred arms, glancing at the book as the other wolf explained it. At mention of not being able to read the captions well Sedition perked up his attention slightly. The other named himself as Skoll and Sedition's tail wagged gently at the new acquaintance. Knowing names were always important, even if the Wick was rather lax about remembering them. It normally took a good conversation, an unusual conversation or something memorable for him to truly remember. After all scent, appearance and ranking were often important in Sedition's mind. He was still a wild animal.
Twitching his ears he tipped his head slightly, reaching a paw out to the book. "May I?” Pointing to the hydra he read out the caption, "From Greek Mythology. A monster with nine heads; when struck off each head was replaced by two new ones. The hydra was slain by Hercules." His clawed finger had traced the words as he read them, pointing out the little marks that humans had called 'punctuation.' When he finished the finger went up to trace the heads of the beast. It was a horrible-looking creature and one that although Sedition highly doubted even existed, one that he didn't want to meet. "Name's Sedition Wick from Jaded Shadows. My family lives Southwest of here, all the pups are taught reading at an early age. I can help you with the book if you'd like." He didn't want to impose though so he wouldn't be offended if the other told him to bugger off.
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My easy classes--easy though they may be--appear to enjoy homework. My apologies for not being as fast as I was before.
Skoll's expression changed slightly as the younger male read the words aloud. He couldn't even begin to grasp the majority of those words. The word hydra, which had been the name of the beast, was a word he had failed to even try to pronounce. His attempts always stopped in his head, where he wondered how he could say a word with no vowels. "Y" could go before a word, where it made a sound he knew, or sometimes at the end, though he forgot the sound it made at the end of the words. Fiacha had tried to teach him to read, but he hadn't been able to meet with her enough to really learn most of this. He had learned a fair bit of letters, and had picked up little bits and pieces from other wolves in his last two journeys outside of Bleeding Souls, but nothing approaching a coherent understanding of the written language.
"Thank you, I have been wanting to learn to read human words," he managed after a moment, trying feebly to figure out how that all fit into the caption he'd seen. "But I don't know what I could repay you with. I need the tools I have, and my main trade isn't something one usually just offers people." Learning to fight was actually a pretty common interest among young males, barring those who felt cocky in their current abilities, or accepted that their builds or personalities weren't conducive to fighting and turned their energies to other pursuits. Still, despite its coyote problems, and the strange prevalence of violent or unstable individuals in Bleeding Souls, it didn't seem to be a big concern in Bleeding Souls. That was for the best, he believed. Young men were almost always hot-blooded, and giving them the confidence that they could win every fight would spur many of them to seek more blood than was necessary. Still, it meant that he had very little in the way of trade.
"I know most of the letters, but not how they go together usually. The words and their meanings are also difficult, since I only know the words by sound, and if I can't pronounce the spelling, I can't make the connection." Maybe, if this wolf wanted something that he could provide, he'd be able to truly read these human books for the first time. Then an entire archive of human stories would be open to him, and he would fulfill a dream that he had held for the past two years.
~The lyrics are from the best song ever written.
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