roar like an open fire

*Diarmuid* · (This post was last modified: 11-20-2017, 01:05 PM by Diarmuid.)

The chill that had begun to creep over the land was unmistakable. Luckily for the wolves that lived on this side of the continent, the winter was fairly mild - especially at the beginning of the season. Diarmuid had dealt with far harsher conditions and he had no doubt that he could survive another winter on his own. He'd decided that this was a decent place to settle down for awhile, and an even better one for some of the Xanilovs to call home - and he'd likely remain here until something pulled him away. The lake, in particular, was a decent place to get familiar with. Obvious reasons aside, prey seemed drawn to the water's edge and it was close enough to Celestial for his comfort.

Today was little different than the days that had come before it. Diarmuid lingered near the edge of the water for a long while, taking a brief dip in the lake once the sun neared its peak in the sky. After that he lounged in a patch of grass - well, it was mostly dead now, but was still grass despite its color - and dried off. After that he took some time to scout out the border closest to Celestial, making careful note of the scents he encountered. He was wary about those that lingered close to their claimed territories that weren't part of the pack already; he hoped if there was any hint of future trouble for the pack that he could at least alert them of it ahead of time.

There was nothing wrong with being watchful and prepared, even if it left him feeling strangely restless most of the time as of late. A silent sigh fell from his lips as he trudged on, diverting his path slightly toward the lake again and to one of the spots that he'd claimed as his own. A large oak, leaning slightly to the side, with a wide curved base that made for the perfect resting spot. He sniffed at the dirt there before carefully flopping onto his side and stretching out against the tree's base.

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