Wandering souls
04-01-2013, 12:03 PM
~*~ ooc: hope you don't mind another thread with yours truly - I really wanted to reply here! Gargoyle rarely had buisness in the south. He was pack wolf and he preferred to be with his pack. Family was what kept him grounded. What kept him sane. Some wolves were strong enough to stand on their own paws and know who they were no matter what might befall them. Most just thought they knew who they were and reveled in the delusion. Gargoyle was neither. He?d seen all the sides of himself. He knew what brought out the darker ones and brought out the better. Glaciem ? Crusade, Asheni, Ocena, - they brought out the best in him. They made him the King he could be. And when he could help it ? he didn?t stray from them. However, today was different. Today was a day of memory. A day when he needed a strange land under his paws and a strange sky above his head?. And a quiet place to sit down inbetween them. This was the day, four years ago, when he?d finally recovered from the maze of scars he?d been given by the ambush of white wolves. When he?d said goodbye to the crazy healer fox who?d patched him up ? and went south in search of his family. ?and found them all gone. Found the snow bare, the ground uphevaled, the great pine forests reduced to stumble and ash. Glaciem had gone through two terrible moves, but that first one had been far harder on him. For he?d believed his entire family to be dead. And he?d wished that those white wolves in the north had just finished the job and killed him. That day had been the start of his downward spiral. And when the yearly return of that day rolled round, Gargoyle needed space to breathe ? otherwise the demons of self-doubt were likely to tear at his soul. And to him ? even the musings, even the whispers of such things as doubt and weakness were loathsome. For he?d felt a twisted form of pure, cruel power, and like a drug the memory of it beckoned, spreading lies of how much better he was with it ? how much better then basking in supreme confidence and the fear of others ? than he was now: doubting himself like a heat-happy yearling around a she-wolf. Pathetic. Gargoyle wasn?t meant for weakness. He was meant for power. But meant for the right sort of power. That which stemmed from the trust and respect of his family; From the love of his sisters and mate; from the mantle of responsibility and guardianship that he took upon himself. As he finished talking himself through such things, the gigantic beast let out a sigh, and then almost smirked. He was so used to seeing his breath form a cloud in the cold air. It was almost like he wasn?t breathing without it. The wolf came to his paws and started back along his way. But that was when he heard the quiet bemoaning words of another. There across the plains was the black shape of another wolf ? large by any standards save Gargie?s. The Chief padded across the grasslands ? not thundering about, but not trying to hide his steps either. ?I?m afraid I can?t offer myself as a the love you?re looking for-? he said in a dry, bland rumble. ?-but if it?s companionship you?d like on this day ? or someone to talk to?? Gargoyle finished his sentence by seating his haunches down only a few lengths from the stranger. The two were like an island, with the green and gold grasses making an ocean about them, one which waved and bent in the soft summer breezes. Today was a good day for talking. ~*~ ~Don't want to let you down, but I am H.e.l.l.b.o.u.n.d.~ |