Foreshadowing
06-24-2013, 04:49 AM
Masqurading as a man with a Reason my Charade is the Event of the Season though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say: ~*~ (ooc: hope you don't mind me jumping in ;3 ) Meanwhile: The rushing winds had picked up, not just at the border, but all over Glaciem. In mountainous regions weather was known to be unpredictable, and the world could go from sunny to blizzarding in under three minutes. Such things became especially common in winter, and they were enough to freeze travelers in their pawsteps. But that was precisely why Gargoyle was out in this one. The Chief had returned to the pack cave after a rather successful hunt. He'd gone after another of those mountain goats, and despite a bit of a tumble that both he and his prey took, he still got the bleating thing in the end. However, it was at the cost of several bruises, a nick over his right eye, a good deal of pride. He'd thought that when he got home he could take a breather, maybe even curl up and share naptime with his pups -er-that is "guard them while they sleep". But it was only once he was back that he discovered Ithurial was missing. She'd gone out, but apparently not alone - Awaken's scent was there with her's. He could see their tracks in the snow, possibly from some hours before. Even as he glanced at the marks, however, the snow began to shift, fluries began to swirl, the tracks began to vanish. Gargoyle raised his head and looked up to the heavens. Dark clouds were rushing in with all the force of ocean waves. He caught the first, icy blast with spread legs, but it was enough to have knocked a smaller wolf down. "Incoming White Out," he rumbled back to the pack in the cave. He didn't have to order anyone to stay put, for one thing, he trusted the abilities of his braves, and for another, he trusted their common sense. But he needed to get out there. Maybe it was those newly awoken father's instincts of his, but he had to track down Ithurial. He had to make sure she was safe in the midst of this northern chaos. The Chief set out at a trot along the quickly vanishing trail. The use of his eyes and nose was diminishing as time went out, and the roar of the winds drowned his ears. Yet he thought he heard something. Thought he smelled something. Was the little yearling coming his way? "Ithurial!" he boomed out. "Ithurial!" Carry on my Wayward Son There'll be peace when you are done |
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