Don't poke the bear-wolf

*Valentine* · 11-16-2014, 04:10 PM

Heaving himself backwards, Valentine drug the hindquarters of a ram behind him. He held one of the limbs firmly by the hock, the shoulderless front end trailing away from him in a grisly display of innards and ribs. An unmistakeable crimson stain flecked with the occasional bit of gore marked the places that he'd been. The brute was exhausted and splashed from tip to toe in blood. His kill would not be wasted, though, and so he pressed through the fatigue.

Reaching Imperium's border and knowing the finish line was in sight, the slate brute was suddenly rejuvenated. Gritting his teeth, Valentine picked up the pace. He was eager to be home, eager to be done with the long haul. Above all else, he was ready for a nap. He had half a mind to howl for the pack and then abandon them to the feast while he went somewhere quiet to recover.

Huffing around his hold on the ram, Valentine rolled his eyes to the side as he tried to look over his shoulder and get an idea of how much farther he had to go. There was one knoll in particular that he had his sights on.

"Speaking" "Thinking"

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me