Tough Skin But Tender Souls
08-07-2013, 08:36 PM
Burn the land and Boil the Sea; but you can't take the sky from me
Gargoyle was on one of his rare trips away from his family. Oddly enough, ever since they'd become rogues, he'd actually had more time on his hands. Without the offical title of a pack and borders they were without challengers, and without the target that pointed them out to murder-happy loners. Gargoyle had had to kill two -no - three wolves in the past season or so, it was something he disliked. Or rather, he enjoyed it so much that his saner half preferred him not to. He did what he had to. That was all - or such was what he told himself to let sleep come easier each night. This day he'd gone off to search for new lands that he might move his family to. Seracia was a possibility, since the relations between the southern kingdom and the 'snow rogues' were still good. Nephilium Island that his friend had scoped out would work too. And then there was Fontamo Bay. Fond memories of this place. He'd almost died here once. But it was a bit too stormy and unpredictable to bring pups to. Storms and tides here grew powerful enough to wash in leviathans from the deep. Or such he'd been told; he'd never actually seen anything bigger than a small marlin wash up among the kelp and shells. ...Until today. He'd come early to the kill. Early enough to see the grey beast breathe it's last. The gulls had already been circling by that time and Gargoyle had to bat them out of way to start tearing into the carcuss. Normally he just would've snapped up a bird and eaten that instead, but this was something new. After he'd ripped hard and long to peel away the layer of skin, he'd had to dig through a layer of fat that seemed almost as thick as he was wide. The bludder tasted good though, and he munched on that a bit while he'd circled the thing, getting a feel for it's size and appearance. It was something he could respect and feed on at the same time. It was incredible. By the time he'd returned to the spot on the side, the birds had picked through to the good stuff for him. He'd had to bear his fangs to a grey hawk but then he'd gotten to bury his head in the meal. Perhaps that was why he hadn't heard the approaching pawsteps in the sand. He didn't realize he was no longer alone until frustrated words spilled from unseen lips. He pulled his head back from the fish, blood wetting tufts of his fur along his face and upper neck, and turning them into damp spikes. Lifeless yellow eyes peered about, but with the great wall of whale in front of him, there was no seeing anything. The newcomer must have been on the other side. Rather than walk around like a regular fido, however, Gargoyle, took a few steps back and then, with a stride and a leap, clawed his way up on top of the water-monster. With angry screechs and screams of every kind, the birds flapped from their perches and flew off to wing like vultures overhead. It was quite the entrance. Gargoyle stood half crouched upon the mountain of grey skin, and looked down upon the orange she-wolf who'd sought to rip into what he had found first. When there was plenty, however, Gargoyle wasn't the sort to play keepsies. So long as the other wolf was polite, he was more than happy to share. But she didn't know that, and he didn't intend to tell her until he'd made up his mind as to what sort of persona she was. He'd made his first move, now he waited to see what her reaction would be to the sudden appearance of a dire-sized brute with no tail and a tattered ear. GARGOYLE
41 inches of doberman & timber wolf been just about everything but a saint |
Current time: 11-22-2024, 12:48 PM
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