Be Prepared

His days always started slow. They didn't start late-- he awoke with the earliest riser in the den, which was to say at the crack of dawn. The early risers tended to prepare themselves quickly and leave early to do their duties. He would follow them in their rituals to a point, being of aid when he could, otherwise just providing company, a gentle reminder of steps they may have forgotten. He'd awake from his hollow... The air in the mornings was cold, it always bit at his nose and clung to his skin. He always waited for the sun to warm the ground some before he braved the world.

It was part of his own private ritual. So many steps he'd learned in his all too long life, things designed to keep him healthy in body, soul, and mind. Ever since he was young, still on his mother's teat, he'd practiced certain techniques. It was an act of balance, an equalizer. He stuck to routine as often as he could, an upstart threatened much worse than a bad start to a day. Since before birth he'd suffered from a debilitating condition, something that made him different from his rambunctious little critters. If they could even be called that.

The males's heart beat differently than others if at all. He'd known this almost as soon as he began to have conscious thought. His mother was a rock, her heart beat was steady and slow. As early as he could remember, he could remember sinking into the sound of it, wrapping himself in the comfort of her life-giving breath. Even now, he took every opportunity that presented itself to fall asleep with his head cradled against her bosom. The thought of seeming childish never entered his mind.

Each morning he sank into himself the way he had sunk into his mother. His breathing grew slow, controlled. Each breath was deep, filling his chest cavity to capacity. He held his breath for several seconds before slowly exhaling, looking inward. His heart beat was hollow... but still powered his body. The beats were slow...blank...and cold, the sound not as deep and robust as he yearned it to be. There was a slosh, always a worry, blood leaking from where it was meant to be. Every morning he felt unsettled. his heart was cold and the blood that ran through his veins was made of ice...but he would not let that change him. Not in the slightest.

He filled his mind with pure, intelligent thoughts. The sound of his past tormentors, his enemies. The sound of blood being spilled, each unique, their beats as fast as their paws or their inquisitive minds. He focused, another deep breath, looked inward again. Slowly the beat of his heart leaned towards a more steady pace, calm energy pooled just above his gut. Around him, the sounds of his heart went ignored, his entire being preoccupied by maintaining the positive.

'This is me.' was the thought, 'And I can be as strong as I want.' His heart agreed, compromising on a steady if weak beat. Satisfied, he pulled himself back to the present, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His light violet eyes opened, greeting the warming sun that had peaked over the horizon and came brightly down on him. It was time to get lunch...the male had spent days without any kind of blood source and he felt himself becoming more and more thin. Stepping out from his hollow the small child narrowed his eyes and moved forward into the light...yes...the light.

As the gorgeous man slithered from his little den... his ears swiveled atop his head like radar dishes. Those violet orbs of his scanning the area carefully...his slit pupils focusing as he prowled forward with a type of elegant beauty he had been told he inherited from his mother. It was true, that he was less of a...'male' then most would think. Delicate curves and a body that looked like it was carved by the gods themselves...sometimes foxes themselves envied. All he had was a superior mind, and a pretty face. Other than those two distinguishing features he would good for little. At least...on the surface thats what it would seem. After all, who knew that combat skills lied hidden underneath that frame of his?

Eventually, ​he reached a large water source...a stream to be exact. Small for others, rather large for him. He was not picky...either way. He decided he actually needed to bath. That being said, he casually followed the stream down to its source. The thick moister in the air threatened to give him troubles breathing comfortably as he finally reached his location.