Bad Company
09-16-2013, 11:42 PM
Northern Alacritis was like nothing the male had ever seen before. He had seen tundra before, but nothing like what he found here; towering ice pillars, glowing lakes, and monumental red trees separated the landscape from any other. Had Alta?r been a more expressive soul, his jaw might have been slack with awe. Instead, he wandered the area with bright citrine eyes, drinking the sights in as though they were a fine wine to be savor end, cataloguing each dip of the land for future use should he ever pass through again. In the distance, he could hear the roar of water as it tumbled down and crashed into itself over and over. Waterfalls were one of the few pleasures he indulged in. The sound calmed him and their sheer power gave him inspiration. He pushed himself a little quicker, a foreign surge of thrill pushing its way through his veins. He stopped short when the foliage seemed to abruptly give way to abyss, toes pushing pebbles downward, lost to the mist as it rose up from the lake in a fog. Backing away from the edge, Alta?r picked his way across the unsteady ground until he found a sturdy slab of earth. It was wide and mostly flat, providing a decent view of the falls without putting oneself in any particular danger. The air was heavy with moisture, a sharp contrast to the dry air he had been inhaling thus far. It was a welcome change, the heaviness making the chilly air seem a little less offensive against his coat. While his winter fur was coming in gradually, he was not acclimated to such temperatures the way a native would be. Still delighting in the thrill of the area and the cool breeze shooting awareness into him like a narcotic, Alta scraped his claws against them rock, tipping his head into the breeze. Speech, |
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