Writing Stories

Walk | Talk | Think

Covari was nothing like Mount Volkan. Where the mountain had been tall and rocky, scattered with little pockets of green or snow, this place was more even. Maybe there was a little roll to the ground, and maybe there was a noticeable low point, but it was all so even in comparison, not grand and huge as he had been used to. Snow blanketed it all in a soft, consistent layer with no broken patches that he had been able to see. The only distinguishing figures about the place were the buildings that Maia had spoken of, ruined structures that grew very strangely out of the ground unlike any rock formation and tree that he was familiar with. All in all, very different lands than where he had grown up.

Faced with it all now, free to wander where he willed, Eirik found himself stalling. He stood almost rooted to the spot, rosy pink eyes panning left to right a little widely. Where did he begin? His tail swung uncertainly and his black-tipped ears twitched, and for a moment he considered not even going off at all. There was no super strong desire to do much exploring within him as there was in his sisters. A home body of sorts, so long as his family was near he lacked the incentive to go off on his own. But then, if he did nothing, how disappointed they would be considering the last - and only - story he had to tell about an adventure all on his own had been some time ago! And he did seem to find awesome stories.

Making up his mind, Eirik furrowed his brow, an expression that made him look quite like his father, and began to pad forward into the waiting Range, wondering where Keiki and Warja had gotten to during his time of inaction.