You Wanna Get Up, Let Go

Crafting an Item: Femur blade |Round |1|2|3|

He held the femur between his paws, chewing and attempting to break the end off into a sharp point but so far the rounded end had remained fixed to the rest of the bone. “Strong enough not to break in battle.” He thought to himself in an effort to keep himself from working at his task rather than abandoning it to find something more interesting. If he had someone else he could lever it against a rock and break it off while they stood on one end as he pressed down on the other. He considered calling Rain but gods only knew where that damned boy was. His son had been distant and had been apprehensive about joining the pack. Did such weakness come from his Wreckage lineage? Or was it some lasting nature from the boy’s mother?  

He lifted his lip momentarily before snorting indignantly. The woman who had once been a subject of joy for him had become a bitter pill to swallow. He may have abandoned his pack but he had never even considered abandoning Rain, no matter how much he disappointed him. He had been foolish enough to hold her loyally in his heart while he had been away, denying female traveling companions and any warm comfort they offered him. She had disgraced him and he had been foolish enough to love her. For a moment he considered flinging the bone away in anger but ultimately settled for knocking a stone off the rocky ledge he rested on. Anger was unbecoming for him and to let his emotions get the better of him was beneath him.

Speaking  Thinking You