alteratio
01-24-2014, 10:14 PM
He had barked, then howled, warned his people of the Ash cloud that seemed to have cloaked his beautiful abode in a silky-grey smog. But perhaps the King was not quite so foolish as to embark on the deadly journey to check each of his babes and members; he would drop back into the small gully, falling nose first into the safety of a barely used den. Only a short distance from Sendoa?s usual resting place, situated close to the still waters of the small pond that loitered above The Meeting Tree. It was safe beneath an overhang of earth, and facing away from the wind; managing to allow the albino the relief of clean oxygen. Alone, he would worry for the state of his lands, if they would ever truly be magnificent again, and if his people were safe. But nothing seemed quite threatened enough to risk his own health, and so the man would remain crouched until all seemed safe. That was of course, until the jolting cry of a woman would send the mans ears flicking backwards; searching for the reason behind her call and it?s desperation. It seemed addressed to a superior, and what was more, it seemed relatively close. He would hesitate, muscles reboring momentarily beneath his hips as he would ponder the sanity within his decision; but alas he was a King, and he did not wage wars and battle the great just to whimper beneath the palms of nature. A gasping of air would be held beneath his lungs, and rapidly he would leave the safety of his chosen structure to crawl from the mouth of the den. Ash littered the frosted earth, pale lashes blinking frantically to keep the muck from his ruby gaze. But he was distracted, lured by the distant sighting of a woman by their den. With desperation he would come to recognise the events that had unfolded. Six, the newcomer he had met only briefly at the meeting, would sit crouched over the motionless body of his son, and immediately Isardis would fret. Although he may have considered the woman an omen, he could do no less than assume she had helped the boy. Instinct told him the child was alive, reaching downwards with barely an astonished glance at Six, clasping the dark boys scruff beneath eager jaws and a muffling through the thick of Kyarst?s coat, ?Can you walk?? directed to the woman; but he would not stay for long, loping eagerly away as he would drop again to the sheltered confines of the den he had found, dropping the boy within it?s clear safety. With a gasp of clean air, he would stand at the entrance, gazing up and over the rise in the earth, waiting to see if the rescuer had managed to follow. |