We fall down
11-10-2014, 09:20 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-10-2014, 09:26 AM by Epiphron.)
Epiphron would seemingly glide along the unfamiliar terrain, her paws carrying her along with purpose. She moved alarmingly like a specter, her body illuminated solely by the light of the moon and the gentle twinkling of stars overhead. There was obvious fervor in her step, growing determination with each step that she took. There were a few wolves she needed to find, to settle her restless mind and to ease the worries that plagued her sleep. Where was her sister these days, and was she faring well after the loss of their brother? Where was Erani -- and did she even know all that had transpired over the last few seasons? Had she even met her youngest children? They were not even children now. Soon they would be two years old. Had it really been that long since she had seen her adoptive mother? An audible sigh left her lips as she continued through the near-darkness, her mind suddenly clouded with unpleasant thoughts. She knew that Valhalla was no longer, but she wondered where her old pack had gone, if they were even a cohesive unit any longer, or they all had dispersed across the land just as the Kingdom of Seracia had. An unfamiliar scent tickled her nose suddenly, her attention shifting from her relentless movement to her surroundings. It had came abruptly, though she knew her senses had been hazy as her mind had grown cluttered with thoughts. Slowly she dropped her head to the earth, tasting the scent with a sharp inhalation of cold air. Though the scent wasn't directly recognizable, it held an air of recognition that she could not ignore. Quickly she would make her way toward the scent, curiosity gripping her and refusing to relinquish its hold until she knew who lingered nearby. Epiphron swore, for a split second, that it was Chrysanthe standing there in the distance. The white fur and the russet face mask in combination made her chest tighten, a rush of adrenaline surging through her -- but a moment later she knew the scent was distinctly male and it was not her dear sister, and certainly not one of her children, either. And yet this male seemed familiar regardless, and she eyed him with intrigue from a good distance away. "You are an Adravendi," she would call out in the night, her words unsure, more of a guess than any kind of declaration. Perhaps he was not, but it seemed a fair guess -- warily she stepped a bit closer to him, nearly laughing at how similar the two of them were in appearance. |
