All You who are Weary and Heavy Laden
04-18-2013, 09:14 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-18-2013, 09:15 AM by Bronze i.)
The morning had been silent. Though Bronze had been in the pack for surely longer than a week now, he had yet to meet any of the others. His time had been spent mostly in solitude, his mind and body directed towards healing his wounds. Loccian had done wonders in reinvigorating his spirit, breathing new life into the tired brute with her unwavering kindness. He was sure he felt something towards her, though whether it was more friend friendship he had yet to consider. Gerhardt summoned all of Seracia, and his call echoed through the lands, the male's voice bounding off the stone walls of the den he had claimed as his own. It was small, not entirely comfortable, but it was hidden from the rest, and the seclusion was worth it. With little effort the male pulled himself to all fours, feeling a surge of energy as he once again realized the pain in his side was almost gone. The scar would remain, as would the one on his neck, a reminder of his own weakness and his terrifying mortality. He navigated the lands with some hesitation -- mostly he had been skirting about the borders, unsure whether he should make his presence readily known. In general he preferred to stay to himself. As he carried himself toward the small gathering of wolves that had begun to arrive, he seated himself comfortably near Loccian, reclining on haunches beside her. A simple smile was given in greeting; though he wanted badly to lean and nudge her gently, he was unsure whether the display of obvious affection was warranted at a time like this. Before long the King began to speak, addressing quite a few things. Bronze felt a bit detached from the gathering -- he was introduced, and gave a simple nod of his head -- but he had no real reaction to the rest of the news. Pups were being born, weddings were being prepared for, the Queen had left, alliances were being forged. Also, there would be events with another one of their alliances. It all felt rather too formal, and Bronze found his eyes straying to watch the wolves that listened so attentively. He was reminded so strongly of his childhood -- talk of weddings and alliances and Queens and all that. The life of a rogue was much less... full. It certainly was simpler, albeit more difficult. Tail twitched behind him as he sat, temporarily consumed by nostalgia. He had nothing to say, no questions to ask, and so he sat silently, very much like a statue, hazel stare revealing little of whatever might lie beneath. |
