ardent

Where love is



Rune I

Loner

age
5 Years
gender
Male
gems
0
size
Large
build
-
posts
275
player
02-28-2014, 11:39 AM




Walk | Talk | Think

He had known since finding out Valhalla was moving that he and his family would not be remaining on the island for much longer. To his surprise, however, they were not going to follow the rest of the pack on their way to Vericona, where they had once lived before. Alamea's decision to strike out on their own, to go back to Mt. Volkan, had taken him utterly by surprise. He had assumed her attached to the pack and life there; had her own faith in them been shaken by the events that had transpired around the challenge? It had all cluttered his thoughts as he tried to sleep, kept awake by the notion of returning to his old home, and there was no denying that he felt a surge of happiness knowing he would get to introduce his kids to that place. Maybe even Alamea would love it there too.

Sleep had eventually claimed him and it was some time later that he was woken by a gentle nuzzle and a quiet phrase from his mate. He opened his bleary, pale blue eyes and was silent as they adjusted to the dim light of the den, keeping them fixed on Alamea as she rose beside him and stretched. Today was the day. Moving day. A little Rune worried over the fact he had failed to venture to the Mount in order to scout it out before their move, to ensure it was a safe place, but that was neither here nor there now. Instead he took comfort in the plan to stay close to his family the entire trip to protect them, to be sure in the simplest way he could that they stayed out of danger and to confront it should their luck fail them.

A falsely bright phrase spoken by Alamea had the pups stirring from their sleep, tiny bodies wiggling and moving restlessly. The proud young father smiled. He much preferred them this way to when they had first been born. They had been so minuscule and fragile, helpless and defenseless and so desperate for care. Now at least he feared less about harming them accidentally. They were sturdier, stronger, and surprisingly quick on their feet. His mate made her way toward the den's entrance and at last the burly grey wolf rose gruffly to his black paws, head ducked as he peered at their children. For all their being born in a storm, he thought them moving through life rather smoothly. "C'mon, after your mother," he ordered in gently stern tones, hoping that they would set aside their exuberance for the day to make the move as easy on them all as could possibly be. He could tell Alamea was already nervous, and though he was comfortable with their destination he was somewhat nervous her unease would begin to rub off on him as well.