Be It May, Be It Not

the scenery made him on edge. his walk was slow, worn down and heavy on the arid terrain. it was immensely hot-, his thick onyx coat doing nothing to relieve him as he painstakingly went on, treading over the long cognac plains. panting and girth swingingly rhythmically side to side as the large dire wolf paced himself over Redwater rocks, he passed many towers of eroded rock. a barren wasteland, he looked for the exit.
that was until a loner came into view. a fae, smaller than him but still a notable in size: draped in colors he never felt more irked by. surely, they could make up for their distasteful palette with something else? so quick to judge, the gleam in his orbs said it all yet otherwise his visage was stoic as if nothing lived inside the hallow brute. "Where is the end?" he asked with a baritone voice, wet nose flaring as his panting subsided, ears erected and swiveling atop his broad crown. thick jowls hung opened, his fangs peaking through as his glossy eyes fixated on the wolf ahead. standing in their way, imposing their path as awaited a response. his scut hung loosely between his taut flanks, his body itching for movement under the baking sun.



"talk" - "think"