Calling of the North

*Theo* · 12-10-2013, 11:12 PM

The cold had stolen into his marrow, seeping through his bones. Still, the polar wolf carried on, his jaws gaping as he scented for anything out in this bitterly frigid wasteland. To him, though, it was not a wasteland. In fact, through his golden orbs, he could believe this to be a wonderful, magnificent place to be, in spite of the freezing weather, which tended to plummet swiftly out here in the Frozen Fields. The wolf meandered through the field of ice, alone and silent. Though he had been born as a loner, part of him wanted to run with a pack. Perhaps he could join Glaciem, but he had never looked into the life of the packs. He just knew that some had cruel tendencies, and he honestly only longed for a pack with order and ranks in mind. Still, he wandered through the landscape as a loner, wondering if it was loneliness or solitude that pierced his soul.

Theo had made an escapade out here, trying to make the best out of his ability to go wherever he wanted, so long as the threat of pack territory did not loom over his head. Nowadays, it appeared as if all of the land was claimed by the warring or allying packs. Perhaps it would be safest to join one of the packs, and Glaciem just seemed like the best fit for Theo. Still, he would not adapt to pack life, so he remained as a rogue of the landscape.

The snow-white, polar wolf felt something solid and furry bump up against him. He glanced over, his golden eyes blazing through the thick haze of snow. Though he had tensed, he seemed to calm down a bit at the thought of this wolf not looking too aggressive. "S'alright. And yeah, I'm fine. I enjoy it out here, actually," he replied gruffly, his voice devoid of any emotion. It was not like he felt threatened out here. In fact, he quite enjoyed it out here, in spite of the frigid wind clawing viciously at his pale, white fur.

Speech,

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