I need a hero
Walk | Talk | Think Rune raced through the forest of the island intent upon the shoreline, following the last faded fragments of Alamea's scent. All the while as he ran and the storm raged on around him, the damp, brawny grey wolf cursed himself. Damn it! I should have made her stay. But even as he thought it he knew any objection he would have made to his little mate leaving the island would have only made things worse. She had been nearing the end of her pregnancy, round enough to look as if any day the pups would arrive, and the pressure of it all seemed to have made her considerably more sensitive and irritable. So he had stood passively by as she paddled off across the water, watching her until he was sure she had landed safely on the mainland before busying himself with other things. Of course, as soon as the storm hit and the rain and wind picked up in severity he began to worry. Where was she? Was she safe? Could she get back? Would the storm let her? He was not yet at the shoreline but he knew already how choppy the ocean would be, even the shallow piece the Valhallans used for travel. Growling at his own poor choices, Rune did not slow until he stepped completely out of the tree cover and directly into the beach, frosty blue eyes squinting immediately against the pelting rain as he tried vainly to see her. Nothing here along the shore, in either direction. Which meant she was either making the cross or fixing to. Instantly the drenched grey and black wolf turned his attention to the ocean, scanning the unsteady waves. He could see and hear nothing over the wind and rain, and for a brief moment he contemplated charging right into the water and making the trip to the mainland. Something very well could have come up to prevent Alamea's return, and if that something had anything to do with their pups then he wanted to be there, as support if nothing else. He lingered a moment, considering, and was rewarded for his indecision when he finally spotted the tiny white wolf treading water on her way back to Nephilim Island, her odd little companion hitching a ride along with her. "Alamea!" He shouted her name, wanting her to hear him and know he was there waiting for her. Not quite patient enough, he hurried down the beach to join her, bounding into the surf and feeling the chilling waters bite at his legs and then his sides. Not even a minute in it and already the cold was seeping through his body. What must it have been like for Alamea? "C'mon," he coaxed loudly, braving the waters to swim out to her and help pull her to shore. |
