The foundation
07-04-2013, 01:48 PM
Masqurading as a man with a reason My charade is the Event of the season I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say: ~*~ Gargoyle was pushing himself and he knew it, but the male would tolerate nothing but peak fitness from himself, wounds or no. He'd just recently settled a claim on the recently vacated lands of Tortuga. It would give his remaining followers and family a place to stay, and who knew? In time they might learn to love it as much as they did their old home. The once-volcano known as Mt. Volcan was truly a sight to see and something about it called to the male. He too had his inner monsters that threatened to erupt in destruction. But he also had a measure of control. And, since the birth of his and Ocena's children, a new gentleness that he had thought erased from his being long long ago. The recent challenge had shaken loose the beast from the box, but Gargoyle was holding himself accountable. He still had his family; his daughters, his son, and his mate. He still had his siblings and relations and his packmates. He still had a reason to hang onto his soul with clenched teeth. With the sun in the sky and the scent of earth and water and stone on the breeze, that job was easy enough today. Sweating from the strain of the long run, the male eased himself down to a lope, then a trot, then a walk - at least until he was under the shade of one of the many worn stone figures - then he collapsed out luxuriously with his hind legs splayed out and and his chin resting on the ground. But that was when he caught the scent of another wolf. Seracian; he recognized it from the fur of Maverick and the wolf Cyrik when they'd come as allies to the winter world. How long ago that seemed. But this scent was different. It was a pup's! And it was nearby too. Gargoyle raised his head and scanned the rocks with blank yellow eyes. There was fear scent on the wind. Whoever this was, the pup wasn't supposed to be out. It was worried. The Northern brute had done his share of good samaritan work in the past, and so many times it seemed to be spat back in his face... but that didn't stop him from quietly wanting to help. Pups. They had some sort of secret back door into his heart. "Hello there." As he called calmly and softly, he laid his head back on his paws. He didn't make a show of trying to search out the pup. He knew how terrifying his 41 inches could be and he didn't want to frighten the child any more than it already must be. What if it had been one of his own cubs? "Are you playing hide and seek?" he called, putting an effort into trying to sound gentle. "Should I go hide too?" Carry on my Wayward Son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you Cry No More |