[html] Bleeding Souls. Land of the homeless man with a home. Other experiences Tamerlane had had with packs would not meander near independence; Storm, on the other hand, was free — its rambling, forested world was thick with liberty. It was close-knit, comfortable, and yet utterly refreshing all at the same time. Yet Tamerlane was reclusive, a loner to the core, and he sat at his usual spot by the river, his back against a tree and his head leaning against it too; his gaze was faced up towards the canopy, distant and reflective.
It was not as if he was not a sociable beast. Often it would be others that would initiate the conversation, but Tamerlane would envelop himself in it with charming interest and gracious charisma; he was a gentle sort, and respectful, but still prone to occasionally sharp-tongued sarcasm; articulacy used as a verbal defence in a harsh traveller's lifestyle. He had made friends here, and lovers, though none with whom he was truly intertwined. If the tall rogue had found a reason to avoid being solitary, he would not have been here, now. Contently alone. |
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[html] Glider had been looking for a butterfly. Back when he was little - even littler than he was now - he had been told that they were majestic creatures, beautiful, that flew around. No one had even thought to explain to the young boy that he was not likely to find one of them fluttering around in the middle of winter with snow piled everywhere. Which was probably why, thus far, his search for the elusive butterfly had yielded no spoils. Much like a prior search for acorns, it just wasn't the right season for that kind of search.
He spotted someone, though. Someone sitting against a tree. And when he turned to look at them, he slipped on a particularly icy part of the ground, which caused him to fall flat on his face. With an "oof", he rose back to his feet, ambling forward with just as much energy as he would have otherwise. Completely unembarrassed by his fall, because he was on a mission! A mission to find ... butterflies. Besides, the adult had been looking up, into the tree. Maybe he hadn't seen ... So, then, maybe he had seen a butterfly! They flew, after all, and maybe they lived in trees. Brilliant, just brilliant! With a big smile, he bounded up to the adult, peering at the bigger wolf with wide-eyed hope. "Joo sees a buttewfwy up dewe?" Maybe the adult had seen one! Adults were awesome like that.[/html]
[html] | Tamerlane closed his eyes softly to the sound of his own dark philosophies floundering around in his skull, but soon opened them again as he sensed a stranger nearby. His head still tipped up towards the canopy, he only saw the little fellow in his peripheral vision. Joo sees a buttewfwy up dewe? Ah, cute. He let his chin drop back towards his ivory chest, and gazed at the black, fluffy boy. It wasn't one of Phoenix's brood, and Pilot and Dierdre didn't have children (to his knowledge). A straggler, perhaps; a young one adopted into the pack? It isn't butterfly season, I'm afraid. None of them will be about for a fair while yet, he explained faintly. |
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