Cold can stain, but fur can wash up[joining]
06-24-2013, 03:29 PM
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: ~*~ Gargoyle paused in his usual patrol of the snowy wilderness. He was in the southern reaches of the great Glaciem territory, and on this day he was quite certain he caught the scent of a stranger upon the borders. Female. Young. Alone. Interesting. A possible new recruit, perhaps? Or maybe it was someone else who needed help? Hell, he'd be happy to see anyone so long as they weren't another one of those psychotic murderers he'd been having to deal with lately. No, wait. Scratch that. He'd love for it to be one of them. He had a score to settle and his thirst for vengeance would at least be alleviated with a little tainted wolfsblood. Gargoyle moved into a swaybacked trot, and then a lope as he headed to the border. The she-wolf came into view, she was a decent sized wolf with a ghostly fade to her grey-black fur. Eyes the color of sea glass peered out at the snow. Gargoyle did his best to match gazes with them, trying to decide what kind of soul had trasped upon his borders. ?What bring you to the Glaciem borders, stranger?? he said in his toneless rumble. Carry on my Wayward Son There'll be peace when you are done |
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