Heartbeat Of The Glade
02-01-2014, 02:27 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-05-2014, 06:30 PM by Newol.)
The wolf made his way through the trees. This land was new to Newol. This whole environment was something that was just new to him. He was a brat from the desert. Some of his first memories where of sand and heat and darkness and not being safe. Some of the first footing his paws could remember was hard packed dirt so solid you couldn't dig through it without bloodying your paws. It was a harsh world. But from the day he'd been born, he'd done everything within his power to try and make it out of the dust.
And now, here he stood. Standing in tall grass and surrounded by green. The ground underneath his feet where soft like he'd never imagined it. In a way, the warm sun that came down on him was like taking a bath in pure victory, and the grass under his paws was a street of gold. He'd done what he'd said he was going to. For once he'd gone out and accomplished something amazing. His tail maybe wasn't as grand as the stories of the great Zaraidd kings, but it was certainly an uplifting chapter. However, as he walked along his path, he came up on what was a soar reminder that not everyone was skilled like him at staying just a paw step ahead of Pain and Fear. But then, as cowardly as that might seem, he had his reason. Every single one of the stories of the Great Kings was plagued with sorrow and grief consuming them at some point or another and them having to climb their way out of it. That's not what Newol wanted for the world. He wanted to leave it a brighter place then what he found it. And the tool of his choice with which to fight the shadows what actually surprisingly simple. Simply not inherently hating anyone.
But as he made his way into the glade, he noticed almost instantly a somewhat thought heavy looking wolf sitting over what might have been a grave. She seemed lost in thought, her mind wandering loose in other fields. The last thing he wanted to be was disrespectful, so he offered the older fea a polite bow of his head, nose aimed down providing an unintended but excellent view of he scars on his muzzle. With a soft and apologetic voice, he offered her his words. "My apologies, Ma'am. I didn't mean to intrude."
And now, here he stood. Standing in tall grass and surrounded by green. The ground underneath his feet where soft like he'd never imagined it. In a way, the warm sun that came down on him was like taking a bath in pure victory, and the grass under his paws was a street of gold. He'd done what he'd said he was going to. For once he'd gone out and accomplished something amazing. His tail maybe wasn't as grand as the stories of the great Zaraidd kings, but it was certainly an uplifting chapter. However, as he walked along his path, he came up on what was a soar reminder that not everyone was skilled like him at staying just a paw step ahead of Pain and Fear. But then, as cowardly as that might seem, he had his reason. Every single one of the stories of the Great Kings was plagued with sorrow and grief consuming them at some point or another and them having to climb their way out of it. That's not what Newol wanted for the world. He wanted to leave it a brighter place then what he found it. And the tool of his choice with which to fight the shadows what actually surprisingly simple. Simply not inherently hating anyone.
But as he made his way into the glade, he noticed almost instantly a somewhat thought heavy looking wolf sitting over what might have been a grave. She seemed lost in thought, her mind wandering loose in other fields. The last thing he wanted to be was disrespectful, so he offered the older fea a polite bow of his head, nose aimed down providing an unintended but excellent view of he scars on his muzzle. With a soft and apologetic voice, he offered her his words. "My apologies, Ma'am. I didn't mean to intrude."