ardent

several ways to die trying



Balerion

Loner

age
5 Years
gender
Male
gems
28
size
Large
build
Heavy
posts
15
player
06-23-2019, 10:59 PM

Normally a rather hefty beast Balerion was only a wisp of his former self. Mountainous shoulder bones and a bony chest exposed that of the cruel truth of being a refuge. Loner life was not something anyone within his immediate family had ever experienced or prepared for. Balerion was no clueless cocky lad with a god complex but he really never imagined himself outside of the kingdom's walls. The Bloody War happened before he was trained to be a proper warrior and besides that he hadn't experienced much hardship. The pain of losing a mother and many loved ones within the war was something no one could discount, but he had never fought for his life as he was doing now.

Balerion had washed up not long ago with hopes of anyone following his scent. Any Vaelnaris should be able to spot his smell for it was foreign to these new odd lands. The musky smells of his natural aroma were now blended with the sea. Salt water clung to a very dark pelt and tangled normally thick and rather fluffy fur. The once divine Prince of Vaelnaris, Balerion was catching the rotten ends of being alone.

The sweet scent of a sibling fell into a pitch black nose. A fierce pang hit the back of Balerion's throat and traveled down to his heart. A sudden heart welled within the pit of his belly and the beast raised his head to head the glimpse of what may be his sister. The sight of a black and white painted Wolf standing between two rocks came into view as the male padded forward. A little rumble formed in the behemoth's throat and he set off in a glorious trot to close the distance between them.

Immense pad falls quieted as the male stopped at about three tail lengths away from Veraxes. Sharp jaws parted as a husky and cracked voice came forth, "Sister.." He stood tall with lips in a fine line but such a joyous moment could hardly be lost on the skinny Wolf. Balerion took a step forward in attempt to run his muzzle along the salt stained fluff of her neck, "You survived." His voice was deep but held enough emotion to tell a story of sorrow.

""