i am reaching but i fall
04-03-2013, 08:00 AM
~*~ Gargoyle had scented wolf blood some time back - as ever while he was patrolling the borders. And with the scent, his first reaction was worry - not hunger. Seems he really was improving. The next second, the Chief's massive form was plowing through the snow, taking drifts and ice patches and hidden stones all at a full charge. During his time in this new terra he'd come to know the land like the back of his tawny paws. It was a big country, though and he couldn't be everywhere at once. he hoped that if someone was lying wounded on the border - one of the other packmates would get to it. And then he picked up Oxia's scent. The strange male had intrigued him - he'd come upon the border with a bit of an attitude, but that had changed quickly enough to respect and Gargoyle didn't hold it against him. Especially not when the male had then matched him pace for pace up the side of a mountain! No easy feat. Hopefully it wasn't Oxia who was hurt. Gargoyle came upon the scene quickly enough - now that he was close the scents of a strange female and rabbit blood were also detectable. Seemed Oxia had gotten this wounded stranger a meal. That was Glaciem spirit. "Oxia!" Gargoyle called out. He closed the distance between them with a swaybacked trot. He gave the maroon male a nod of his head. Gargoyle was pleased - perhaps even impressed with how well the new member was handling himself. He'd really come into his own. "Seems like you have everything here under control." So Gargoyle turned to the fae. "My name is Gargoyle and I am Chief to the Glaciem Pack. Do not fear, those seeking shelter are welcomed here. We have a few medics - but they're much further inland. Can you walk? No false bravado or pride, please - your wound is deep. Will you let me carry you?" His voice wasn't exactly sweet or encouraging, but it wasn't rude either. It was a rough, low tumble, toneless in it's own right. As blank and unreadable as his eyes of yellow-gold. It wasn't a mask he put it on - it was just him. He let his words and actions speak for themselves. And now those words and actions were offering a shoulder to lean upon or a whole back to lay upon. It was no stretch of the imagination to think he could bear her across the snows: Gargoyle was a mammoth. At forty one inches of height - he towered over most wolves and literally dwarfed his wife. And he had muscle to accompany it. But it was for more than his size and strength that he'd been given the mantle of Chief. It was for the good heart that lay beneath all the turmoil he'd come through. All he wished now was to extend his help to another. ~*~ ~Don't want to let you down, but I am H.e.l.l.b.o.u.n.d.~ |