ardent

Graceful Rooms of Alabaster Stone



Cross1

Loner

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08-24-2013, 01:34 PM


. . .



Cross was being observed. And he wasn't sure he liked it. Usually he was the one to remain silent at the edges of an encounter - if, indeed, an encounter had to be made. He looked at the stranger in turn- one eye rolled back over his shoulder- trying to peice together what he could. Snow flaked the male's pelt. A northerner then, or someone used to the north. He had the trace scents of other lands though, and other wolves. Perhaps he was a loner who met many strangers, or perhaps he was from some new pack the white youth didn't recognize. Cross narrowed his eyes. The stranger seemed confident enough to be a pack wolf. And in good enough condition. Not quite an alpha or leader, though, Cross had been raised among rulers; He knew the presence they held.

Whoever this male was, he seemed ready enough to speak. He said he meant no ill will, and his tone didn't ring forth as false. Whether or not Cross believed him, though, his instincts would not allow his guard to lower so easily. The stranger gave no name. No purpose. No introduction. But he asked a question of the the youth.

"Cross," the boy answered, mentally uncoiling as he took one steady step to the side so that he was facing the stranger at an angle. The boy was mindful of his defenses, but he wasn't seeking to compensate by agression or dominace. His tail remained hanging limply over ivory hocks, and his chin wasn't raised in pride. He was simple aware. Very aware; Those emerald eyes of his took in the scene and it's newest player as a whole. As he moved though, he continued speaking. "Son of Cifer and Crusade. A Snow Rogue." He didn't see much use in beating around the bush. Often he didn't give a name until he felt someone had earned it, but if he was going to give it then he'd make a proper introduction of himself. He would say little else though, until the other male had made some further statement and Cross had more to judge upon.

He'd come here to view the now wolf-less tracks of lands that had once been his home. What could this stranger possibly be doing here?





. . .