ardent

l'inverno è noioso



Starling

Loner

age
5 Years
gender
Male
gems
6
size
Large
build
Light
posts
346
player
keanai
06-13-2015, 12:54 AM
Starling was insanely bored. It was rare for him to be bored. He was rather good at keeping himself entertained for long periods of time, but this...this was just dreadful. He didn't remember winter being so..boring before! But then again, winter was his first chance at stepping foot outside, he had been so curious of the snow and so afraid of the world that he had had very little time to really be bored. So this was all new territory for him. After several days of laying in the den with Finch, or following Shrike around trying to round up his energy he had grown dreadfully tired of that as well. So he decided, if he couldn't practice his healing and storing with winter killing all his beloved plants...he would have to practice or learn something else. With determination he moved through the territories, trying to find the most secluded spot so that he wouldn't make an absolute fool of himself infront of his family and friends. He had made a fool of himself at the sparring training already, barely able to fight...and yet, while it did weaken his desire to learn it didn't really diminish it. Maybe it was because he knew Lark was capable of fighting, maybe it was because his desire to learn healing had some connection, namely the want to protect his family. Healing was really his calling, he knew that, but it was also there incase someone got hurt. If he could fight, and protect, then someone wouldn't get hurt. With a sigh he shook his head, finding a more secluded spot along the rapids. With a delicate sigh he would look this way and that, several times to make sure he was really alone before he thought back to the training session. Defenses...defenses...they were important...right? With a gentle sigh he would lower himself into what he thought was defensive posture, his ears pulled back and his knees bent. His balance was not centered, but he didn't realize.  With another quick glance around he would try and leap forward, almost in a pounce. But his paws got stuck, his body tumbled over into the thin snow, practically face first. With a whimper he laid there, glaring at nothing with his brows pinched and his ears pulled back. How could he learn to fight if he constantly tripped over his own paws??

"Burn Baby Burn" | "Italian"