BULLET in my HAND
05-05-2014, 12:27 AM
The yearling was back in Alacritis, his heart hardened slightly, towards the Armada family, his family, and the mother that had betrayed him. She had left him! That was unforgivable. He'd kept to the south of the land, exploring the massive continent, wanting to meet other wolves- wanting to convince himself that there was indeed life beyond the Armada's. He could be his own wolf, couldn't he? He had grown- reaching near full height at a year, his silvery blue coat was sleek, no longer carrying the soft puppy fluff. Amber eyes were still surrounded by the mask that he inherited from his mother, he looked the same- just matured, older. Still he was nearly confident that his family wouldn't care to look for him, and perhaps they wouldn't recognize him. As much as he loathed the north, since the empire held within in it- his mother, he did intend to go north and properly sever ties with his father, and his father's empire. He wanted to become his own person, wanted to make his name known, and he couldn't do that in the north where he spent his time hating his mother.. could he? He almost had forgotten he was still walking, lost in the rambling that was his mental mantra. Shaking his head, he glanced about him- realizing that he was now among some thick grasses, pushing through them, he picked his head up staring out over them, he could scent someone else, so he came to a halt- glancing around. "Who is there?" He called questioningly, his voice firm and commanding. Glancing about him, he waited for the stranger to make their appearance known. Speech, |
Current time: 11-04-2024, 05:45 PM
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