the king wants his gold
08-15-2013, 06:56 PM
Summer was upon them in the most cliche of ways. The beautiful grasses of the plains had turned a dead yellow coloration. They rustled against each other and, in the masses, grew quite loud when the wind picked up. "Shhhh" they said, demanding silence and silence was given. She wandered near the border, moving delicately through the long grass with ears attentively pointed forward. Her head was tipped down, she was hunting. She didn't use her eyes, instead letting her ears lead her to the faint sounds of rodents underfoot. Field mice. The female pounce, landing hard on a mouse, the force alone enough to dispatch the small mammal. When she lifted her head there was another wolf headed across the open, far enough away that they could easily avoid each other. She watched him, curious. They seemed to have noticed something of interest and Azalea turned her head to look. There seemed to be a gathering of wolves near the border. The young sheila snatched up her mouse, letting it flip up into the air before dropping back into her jaws. Two bites and it was gone, and Azalea was already on the go. When she reached the little party she noted the known wolves. Chrysanthe was there, of course, as well as Cromalin and Cael. The strange wolves were certainly a sight, she had never seen wolves quite like them, it made them unusual. She stepped nearer to Chrysanthe, fiery eyes on the female wolf first. The dark rings around her crimson eyes striking. The male was pale as could be, pink skin showing through around his nose, and eyes. His eyes looked pink, lacking pigment so that they showed the many tiny blood vessels in his eyes. She didn't know these wolves and no one here seemed to know them. They held an air of power about them. The Heir stood silent, standing tall, tail held just just below the line of her back. Speech, |
