Sounding the Seventh Trumpet

N/A · 06-20-2013, 11:58 PM

Here she was again, wandering off. This little habit of hers was what got her lost in the first place. Seems like the yearling still hadn't learn her lesson, but that wasn't too much of a big deal now. She had a home. Glaciem. That was the name of the pack that she had joined alongside her mother and brother. Their really nice alpha miss Oceana had allowed her to become a apart of it. She still hadn't had a chance to meet the Chief Gargoyle, but she was glad she was able to meet his wife. She was a small woman, but extremely pretty and super nice. But as nice as the pack was to her, she still couldn't curb her want to explore. She was a yearling after all, barely starting to grow into her adolescent stage. She still needed to learn a lot of things and what better way than by exploring. Albeit, she probably should've done it at her mother's side, but she was a year now. She didn't need her mother fawning over her all the time. She had made it through a snow storm after all.

Obsidian and russet paws had brought the young girl to a new place. It wasn't extremely breath-taking, but it was pretty in its own right. A golden field of grass bordered the forest, its timbers dotting the landscape. But that wasn't what caught her attention. The stranger's scent did. He didn't smell like anyone from her new pack, or really like anyone who belonged to another pack. He smelled strange. Curious as to who the stranger was, Seraphiel traced his scent, sapphire gems coming across his figure. Jaws unhinged, a quiet bark erupting from her larynx as she called out to the stranger, obsidian plume wagging gently behind russet haunches, crown tilted curiously to the side as she watched him, waiting to see if he would notice her.

Talk like this

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