Worn out places, worn out faces
03-13-2014, 08:03 PM
He was a warrior, a fearsome barbarian. Nothing could stand before him! Massive paws slapped the ground as he bounded to and fro, traveling further from his den then he ever had before. As he had grown he had begun to stray more and more from his family, though he was still oddly attached to him mom he had started to sneak off in the night to have some time to himself. Sometimes he brought his sister along with him and sometimes he left her at home. Like tonight. Tonight he wanted to see the rest of Valhalla, for the first three months of his life he had never seen anything beyond his den and for the following three up to now he had never seen anything beyond Veronica Plains. And up until tonight that had seemed to be good enough for him but it was like he had awoken with the sudden need to see EVERYTHING. So Veronica Plains had been overtaken with leaps and bounds, rolling and frolicking through the grass. But soon the lovely plains he had spent his whole short life in began to melt away before him and the ground began to sink and the walls began to stretch far above him. Orange eyes blinked slowly and his lower jaw unhinged as he looked at the new world unfolding around him. But that all began came to a screeching halt as a ghostly form began to materialize before him. Who was this wolf and why was he in his home? So far Erion had met a great deal of the wolves who lived in Valhalla but this one did not look like a Valhallan. The pup still had yet to figure out the pack scents thing. "HALT TRESPASSER!" His voice boomed in the enclosed space to a point where his ears folded back and he cowered for a moment at the sound of it. For a moment he blinked, looking around as the echo faded away. What was that? Wait. Trespasser! Right! Tiny pup hopped, hackles raising and tail arching over his back in an attempt to look threatening. He could beat up his sister, this guy didn't look any tougher then her. "These are Valhalla lands, pack members only," his words were quieter now, with a bit of a sneer to his tone as if Valhalla was an exclusive club for certain wolves only. |