Sixteen Candles

*Gerhardt* · 05-14-2013, 05:24 PM

Dawn streaked across the horizon, painting the sky brilliant hues of every color imaginable. He gazed at it, head exposed and sticking out of his den. He'd chosen a hole in the ground nearer to the center of the territory on this particular night, as the cooler summer nights were beginning to be a bit chilly in the lean-to. This den was a bit cramped for his size, but it would work for a night or two - especially if he was caught off guard and needed a place to rest. As dawn began to fade and the light of day took over, Gerhardt realized with a groan that he would have to get up soon. He wasn't that advanced in age yet, but the King was beginning to think that all of the responsibilities were wearing on him. Constant movement, constant stress, it was all very taxing on the body - especially when the body wanted to rest and recline. He'd been taking more frequent breaks lately, and had been trying to delegate more of his tasks out, but he wasn't sure that was doing as much good as he'd expected. He'd have to find some solution - or perhaps just work Maverick harder now that he was back from Glaciem. The King emerged from his den with a grimace on his face and a groan on his lips. Surely at four he shouldn't be this weary, should he?

The whirlwind of a woman whipped past him, practically sending the monarch reeling on his paws. A growl festered in his chest, ripping from his larynx as he sprung into action. The sudden movement stretched his sinews and tendons, but surprisingly felt good. Perhaps that was his problem. He'd been moving, but not moving enough! With a sudden burst of virility and energy - and a raging sense of passion in his chest, the man would stretch his legs full out in attempt to catch the rocketing woman. She might have speed that he couldn't match, but he had endurance. His tail whipped back and forth robotically, adjusting to the slight variations in her movements. She was impressive with her speed, but he had a feeling she was up to no good. After all, who moved this fast with good intentions? Gerhardt began to find himself nearing her - whether by his own accord or by some divine power. When he got near enough to be heard over the drumming of galloping paws, the man would bellow out an order. "Stop in the name of the King!" His face began to wrinkle, lips curling into an ugly snarl. Ears flattened against his skull, removing every ounce of handsome that his face normally possessed. He continued to gallop at full speed, only a few lengths behind the woman. Jaws were held agape to allow for more intake of air as his chest heaved. If she didn't stop he'd run her out of this place, out of his Kingdom, away from his family.

"Speech"

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