I'm Alive.

S3RL - To My Dream


BIC:: Long legs pounded the earth underfoot as the new face to Alacritis wasted no time to begin and make himself at home in this new place that would soon be exactly that. His home. Strong, lean muscles flexed and contracted as the tall wolf propelled himself forward at an impressive speed. Not a thought in his head other than the early summer breeze flowing across the open expanse of land, no tall trees nor other obstructions present to break the flow of air across it. And the bright, beautiful yellow sun in the morning sky, proudly bursting his orange and pink light across the land. His grey fur rippling around his body as he tore across the flat surface. His maw hung open slightly as he focused on his breathing rate and his heartbeat as he'd be taught when young. Drawing in through his nose and out through his mouth for as long as he could. The scars across the left side of his face broken by his parted maw, and his ears folded flat against his skull as he ran.


Obito was alive. He was young and healthy and surrounded on all sides by stimuli of the green and beautiful reawakened world. The young brute loved to move and move quickly. Sometimes it was all he could do to satisfy his body. Run. He was a Folami, out in the world farther than any had ever ventured before, and that was notion enough to make him excited. Yes, he had his doubts, his uncertainties. Like the fact that he was a pact creature with no pack, which meant he needed to find one. And he knew nothing of any of the options on the table as of current. Now was a time to play it cool, stay smart. Scout, observe, learn. Being of a rather tribal upbringing, he was not afraid to fend for himself for awhile. But the world was a bright and wondrous place. At least, it was supposed to be. Time would tell if he had chosen poorly. But either way, it sucked to go it alone. One needed friends. Something to live for. Something to make you have meaning. And he wanted it deeply. To somehow earn the greatness in his veins. To prove himself worthy of being a Folami. The old word stood for I Command Respect! Once upon it was a venom filled, hate bubbling command. Now, it was a standard. A way of life. Ever sense the first Folami had Souls put in them. Their name took on a different meaning.

He knew the stories well. And he was very proud to have a Nafsi in his chest. And he whole heartedly wanted it to be of meaning. But for now, he just wanted his heart to pound and his blood to run. A small tree would appear in his field of vision, he was closing on it fast. Dropping low then kicking off, rotating his head right hard, he would catch it's bent over trunk from years of the wind's abuse with his front paws, the connect his hind paws to the trunk and kick off. Flying off at an almost ninety degree angle, he would continue to pound away at the earth with his paws. His eyes trailing left, he would bank into a gradual turn to finally end up facing the way he came. Then he would turn right and set back off the way he'd originally be heading. Finally, he would slow down to a trout then come to a sliding halt, pulling his maw to the sky and letting a howl sound proudly across the open air, his pulse pounding in his ear as he finished and started gasping for air.

What would all of this lead to? What purpose would he find for himself? How would he earn his name? What would be the meaning that Alacritis held in store for the young man? Now begins the process of finding out. Now begins another story. Grim or Glorious, well. There was only one way to find out from here.