the king wants his gold
08-18-2013, 12:28 AM
He had heard whispers of his father going to a pack by the name of Valhalla, to claim a young dame that he had his sights on, another female to add to his growing brood. Personally, the young Blood would never go to challenge a pack for a member, unless that specific wolf had expressed wishes to leave its pack. He didn't know any of the details as to what had happened between his father and this particular woman, but if he was going to challenge this Valhalla pack for her, then clearly she had to have something that he really wanted and probably lacked in the women that made up his brood for the time being. Naturally Taurig had wanted to accompany Isardis and the Overseer Argent, in case things turn a turn for the worst, but the pale ghost had denied his request to tag along, assuring him that things would go smoothly and by that night they would return with a new glaciem member. Though Isardis was good at getting woman, going up against a pack didn't seem like the most brilliant of ideas. But the young man had relented, allowing his father and the warrior woman Argent to depart to the foreign pack. But despite his father's denial for his appearance, the young warrior could not sit still, knowing that his flesh and blood was endangering himself over some petty woman. With the safety of his father eating at his self-control, Taurig had set out towards the strange land of Valhalla, using his father's scent as a beacon to lead him down westward. He galloped with immense speed, seeming to become a shadow darting across the land as he made haste to reach the land of Valhalla, needing to arrive before anything happened and he walked in on a possible blood-bath. Lucky for him, it seemed that the discussion about the woman's fate was still going on, but that didn't slow the young man's pace. He thundered towards the border of the foreign pack, steel-like muscles rippling beneath his grey-blue coat, talons digging into the soil as he came to a grinding halt beside the Glaciem King and his Overseer. Icy eyes looked nearly white as they danced over the gathered crowd of Valhallans, easily identifying the clay-faced woman as the leader of the group. Onyx dipped plume curled over his hips, ebony tainted ears attentive and forward, gargantuan frame tense. A glance was spared down to his father and Argent, a curt nod presented to the both of them before turning his attention back to the crowd before him, presenting each with their own hard, icy look, ready to tear flesh were any thinking of attacking his father. Talk like this |