crimson tides
07-01-2013, 10:53 PM
![[Image: n6vw2v.jpg]](http://i43.tinypic.com/n6vw2v.jpg)
YOU POINT THE BLAME. I'LL TAKE THE FALL.
The smell of blood had brought him to this place. It wasn't an attractive smell; it was a harsh, familiar smell that opened the flood gates for memories he'd tried to forget. A shiver ran down his spine in response to his thoughts, turning them from his own experiences to those of the fallen. It was obvious that a battle had occurred here recently - Tiresias assumed at least two from the state of the ground. The claw marks and red stains indicated that they had been fierce fights. Tiresias wondered if the loser had lost more than just his pride, but he wouldn't dwell on the thought. The wolves were long gone.
A more pressing matter was the fact that what started these battles was unknown. He could have easily wandered into a dangerous area, where he was likely to witness a fight or become part of one. alert to any sound or movement, Tiresias kept a close eye on his surroundings. He didn't enjoy fighting but he would if it became necessary to do so. Tiresias was more of a peacemaker than a troublemaker, partially out of his distaste for more scarring.
The battlefield was dead. No flowers appeared to be growing there, no animals seemed to live there. It was as if every living creature had vacated the hell hole. Tiresias was beginning to feel antsy and was itching to leave. Anywhere else was better than here. If another wolf were to approach, his sense of smell would not aide him in knowing. The stench of rot was too thick.
He was intent on remaining as quiet as possible, ignorant to the rules of the arena. This was a place he did not want to be found in alone, but if he had known differently, he would have howled his arrival. Tiresias had been searching for a pack to call his home but he didn't feel that this would be the best place to start.
A more pressing matter was the fact that what started these battles was unknown. He could have easily wandered into a dangerous area, where he was likely to witness a fight or become part of one. alert to any sound or movement, Tiresias kept a close eye on his surroundings. He didn't enjoy fighting but he would if it became necessary to do so. Tiresias was more of a peacemaker than a troublemaker, partially out of his distaste for more scarring.
The battlefield was dead. No flowers appeared to be growing there, no animals seemed to live there. It was as if every living creature had vacated the hell hole. Tiresias was beginning to feel antsy and was itching to leave. Anywhere else was better than here. If another wolf were to approach, his sense of smell would not aide him in knowing. The stench of rot was too thick.
He was intent on remaining as quiet as possible, ignorant to the rules of the arena. This was a place he did not want to be found in alone, but if he had known differently, he would have howled his arrival. Tiresias had been searching for a pack to call his home but he didn't feel that this would be the best place to start.
TAG: any! . WORDS: 328 . NOTES: edited for prettiness.