Empty Shell
03-31-2013, 12:37 PM
A lifeless terrain lay in front of the detached lonely male. A light ebony color of his fur blew swiftly in a light breeze. Normally this place had blistering winds that drove wolves away, but today there was only a slight wind that left a comfortable feel inside anyone that went by. Rum was on hi way to Valhalla to regain his family name. He abandoned Valhalla as a small pup, near the age of one year. Of course in the beginning of autumn he would turn three years old. He hadn't been far from home for too long. But it was long enough for others to think that his soul was released. The brute smelled of ash and thick black smoke, but from underneath the musty smell, there was a thin scent of an old alacritis land long lost under the molted lava that rushed across a land that he once called home. It was a harsh land he came from, somewhere his home was lost; somewhere where all these wolves once called home, it was gone. It ceased to exist. But everything he had done was left behind him. Everything he did to survive he tried to erase, he locked it away somewhere it wouldn't come back. The brute walked with his head aligned with his back. He swayed back and forth, he was not ready for what Valhalla would do to him when he approached them. He would be honest if the one who talked to him didn't know who he was. He would tell them that he abandoned Valhalla, but if they didn't want him back he would demand to see his mother, to see his sister. An if they wouldn't let him see them, he would trespass, even if it meant taking someone down on the way there. Even if it meant being held captive, being a prisoner. Rum stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. He needed a break to gather his thoughts, what is to come of me ? Walk "Talk" Think |