Scurvy Sea Dogs
05-23-2014, 12:42 PM
Archaic fancied himself a bucky lad. Meaning, of course, that he liked to cause a bit of trouble now and again. It was fun, which happened to be rather hard to come by in such a cruel land, with even crueler wolves. Arc didn't want to participate in wars, and diplomacy, and grovel before every other wolf he came across. He just wanted to dig his claws into life and live a little! All things considered, the islands seemed to be a pretty good place to do that. It was actually warm here, go figure! More the reason for the man to never leave. He was growing to like the taste of fish too, though catching him had taken some practice. Better than crab, anyways, with those nasty pincers. Arc scrunched up his nose in memory of one particularly nasty encounter, that had left the tip of his nose bleeding. "Godsdamned son of a bastard's whore," he grumbled. Oh, he'd eaten the fucker after of course, bruises and all. Served him right, too. Arc kicked at a bit of sand as he walked, fine and white and laced with bits of sea shell. The way it carried in the breeze, light and wispy, made him smile. Yes, he could get used to the ocean life, crabs and all. "Talk" "You" Think |