Graceful Rooms of Alabaster Stone
08-29-2013, 02:46 PM
At least you have the sight to see him for what he is. The more time he spent with Cross, the more he began to realize that his father was probably going to become the most had man in all of Alacritis. Valhalla was most likely allies with the rest of the packs in Alacritis, and by now they had probably all gotten wind of it and decided that Glaciem was to be on their hit list. And Taurig wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that. No reign lasts forever. He wasn't sure what to say to that so he didn't say anything, merely nodding in response. Being the son of Isardis, what did that make him look like to others? Did they immediately judge him based on his father's actions? He really hoped not because he wasn't anything like this father. Not in the least. But enough of the serious stuff. I came hear to run my old haunts. If you've a mind to keep up, old one, you're welcome to come along. He could see the hint of a smirk dance across Cross' lips before he took off, a blur of ivory flying across the snowy landscape. A booming laugh erupted from the knight's massive chest, powerful limbs launching the man forward, muscles working in fluid synchronization as his paws ate up the ground beneath him, pulling him closer to the young brute until he was nearly neck and neck. How's this for an old one kid? He barked at the youth, his own smirk twisting the corners of his inky jowls. Talk like this |