one – -
10-02-2016, 07:19 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-08-2016, 08:03 PM by Pharos.)
Powerful paws strike the earth below, surefooted. Thick foliage bends beneath his will as the wolf approaches, scent of water heavy in the atmosphere. He can smell it before he can see it.
With a grimace upon his raven-esque inky lips, eyes the pigment of molten gold flicker through the greenery. The reflection of fading sunlight glints in his pupil; it is at first a pale blue shade. As time progresses, the evening approaches. Around him life is teeming, though the chill of an upcoming Autumn has quieted some of the lesser organisms.
Pharos makes no mistake traveling about this land. He pays homage to tradition, becoming a dispersal wolf upon coming of age. Fast forward to two years later, and he can be found roaming the Firefly Forest. It appears to him no better or worse than any ordinary lake, and therefore, he plans to linger if only to rehabilitate his health. Pathfinder. He travels here as a wolf of his own caliber, structured movements calculated yet filled with disconnect. The acid brand of swagger that drives his body is undeniable, some arrogant pip in his step.
Ahead of him, thick and dense shrubbery recedes to become a pebble shoreline. He flanks the water's edge, toes sinking into areas where stone gaps and sand is dominant. The beast slows his trot, gears of a sharp mind turning. Something is upon the wind, and soon, he will come upon it. A corpulent skull lowers, and with one defining snort, he abandons his quest for substance. This, given up, is done so in favor of discovering the owner of said smell. Whiskers quivering excitably, apex senses pinpoint the location.
And thus, he is after her.
With a grimace upon his raven-esque inky lips, eyes the pigment of molten gold flicker through the greenery. The reflection of fading sunlight glints in his pupil; it is at first a pale blue shade. As time progresses, the evening approaches. Around him life is teeming, though the chill of an upcoming Autumn has quieted some of the lesser organisms.
Pharos makes no mistake traveling about this land. He pays homage to tradition, becoming a dispersal wolf upon coming of age. Fast forward to two years later, and he can be found roaming the Firefly Forest. It appears to him no better or worse than any ordinary lake, and therefore, he plans to linger if only to rehabilitate his health. Pathfinder. He travels here as a wolf of his own caliber, structured movements calculated yet filled with disconnect. The acid brand of swagger that drives his body is undeniable, some arrogant pip in his step.
Ahead of him, thick and dense shrubbery recedes to become a pebble shoreline. He flanks the water's edge, toes sinking into areas where stone gaps and sand is dominant. The beast slows his trot, gears of a sharp mind turning. Something is upon the wind, and soon, he will come upon it. A corpulent skull lowers, and with one defining snort, he abandons his quest for substance. This, given up, is done so in favor of discovering the owner of said smell. Whiskers quivering excitably, apex senses pinpoint the location.
And thus, he is after her.