Calling For Trouble

N/A · 01-03-2014, 08:01 AM

The female could have been very, very misinformed. Going to the battlefield to find a pack wasn't going to be the simple or pleasant experience that Arietta believed that it would be.

The femme,a dark brown wolf marked with russet and a bit of tan, would walk into the battlefield unaware of the strange shift in fate that was going to become of her. When summer came around she would be old enough to bear pups, not that she had a mate to speak of yet. Not even a pack, though the loner assured her that a pack wolf would come and bring her to a new home. She thought back to Glaciem, of the wolf she had tried to bring with her. She had lost confidence in trying to go back alone... and part of her wondered if a wolf from Glaciem would come to claim her.

The femme would allow her blue orbs to gaze over the ground, taking note that here and there old bloodstains discolored the dirt or grass. Did wolves truly battle so harshly against each other? Compared to most wolves Arietta was still very naive, and did not know the extent of an evil wolf and their ways. The delicate femme, of a small build, would sit down, raising her muzzle to the sky. She was hardly twenty five inches tall, and only about sixty pounds. She was a tiny little thing indeed. She would howl for a pack wolf, hoping for someone, anyone to come along.

Speech, Thought

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