Kaala's Pawsteps
05-07-2013, 11:57 AM
![[Image: gargie_recokoning_by_kidrylm_writer-d63xnxj.png]](http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/123/0/d/gargie_recokoning_by_kidrylm_writer-d63xnxj.png) ~*~ Under the grey autumn sky, the monster moved across the landscape. An almost overpowering scent of snow and ice and pine still clung to his fur despite the many miles already tread underfoot that day. He could not afford to leave his pack long without his guidance, so, even when his heart yearned to keep running til his paws bled, he had to limit himself. The Battlefeild was of course the first place he'd thought to look. So many different types come here. Everything from poisonous assassins, to friendly she-wolfs, to vetrans like himself. There was a good chance he'd pick up the scent of the wolf who had killed his packmate. But the hours had ticked by... and nothing had showed up. Nothing. The unknown male probably hadn't even come that way. With a hoarse exhale, Gargoyle sank his haunches down. It was... disheartening. Oh to heck with that! It was infuriating! It made him want to kill something! A low growl drew itself from his throat. But it was directed inwards. No, he couldn't let himself get any more emotional that he already was. It was too dangerous. He would find Asheni's killer, and he would receive justice for his family, but there was no telling how long that would take. And if he let himself get too wrapped up in all this chaos, he would only suffer for it. The best thing he could do for his pack was remain strong and carry on. He was Chief. Alpha. When all others mourned, he had to keep rational and stiff shouldered. With yellow-gold eyes as lifeless as ever, he strode on. He had only an hour or so more, then he'd need to make the return journey. He hated that. Well, not completely, it was always a blessing to return home to his siblings and his wife and their children; It was just the returning empty-handed that was hard. But again, stiff shoulders. Carry on. The Chief almost broke his muzzle with a smirk. It was becoming second nature to him. He was so focused on finding the one scent that he sought that he rather ignored all others. Trees, grass, stone, blood, wolves of many packs - they all blinked into his mind for a moment before being pushed out. It was with some surprise then, that the giant male found himself suddenly at the edge of grassy clearing looking down on two wolves. The one was a fae. Rogue. And so terribly young, barely more than a yearling. The other was a Tortugan. Gargoyle's tattered ears shifted backwards. What was going on here? Those ears of his only barely caught the male's words. Apparently it was an introduction. No doubt this male was the equivalent of a Tortugan talent scout. Normally Gargoyle would've turned and passed on by. This was no matter of his. But since becoming a father he was a bit more protective of the young. And since the death of Asheni he was far more averse to the wolves who walked gladly in the darker packs. He knew too well what they were like. He'd once been one of them. So it was that Gargoyle approached the two at a loose legged trot, made his respectful nods and then said quite casually, "I'd say it's rather obvious, is it not? A she-wolf so young, wandering the Battle lands alone? Whether consciously or not, you seek a place of belonging, do you not, Miss?" Gargoyle rarely ever spoke above a low, quiet, rumble, and it was once in a blue moon that any real feeling made it's way to his tongue, but the very keenest listener might just have heard a sense of gentle worry. |