cola with the burnt-out taste
01-27-2014, 01:30 PM
Baldur stepped with calculated precision through the mist, uncharacteristic of his typical demeanor. It was rare for the brute to be seen this serious but in this moment he was hunting memories and tracking ghosts. A familiar scent had caught his nose. It slipped through his mind and tickled at his memory but he just couldn't place it? and all to soon it was gone. Dam. He'd lost the trail. Tail flicking in irritation he continued through the fog and moor. Maybe it had all just been a dream but it was a rather disturbing one in that he could neither remember the dream or what inspired it but he felt like he should remember. Somehow it was important. "Roasted fish feet?" he muttered as he turned to head toward the sound of water. He could really use a drink. Baldur's dream had been stirring in odd directions lately from memories and nightmares to what he could swear was reality only for him to wake again. Normally, the snowy brute didn't dream at all. So what was the problem now? Was it running into his family? He frowned. No, that couldn't be it, surely that wasn't it. Baldur bent his head to drink, lapping up the water gently as he looked to his left and then to his- Baldur's head snapped up, head tilting to side as he stared at a splayed leg male resting near? eww? a moldy dear skin? Baldur thought for sure the brute was dead but he'd already strode over, circling the brute til he was facing the brute's head. The late afternoon sun was falling behind him, casting a haloed glow across Baldur's pristine coat, the reflections of the water shining in his ice blue eyes that were full of curiosities. "I've travelled far and wide but never see a more contented wolf. I'm Baldur stranger, what do you call yourself." |