I was looking for a breath of Life.

*Lark* · (This post was last modified: 08-09-2015, 08:30 PM by Lark.)

Lark was a year old now. By all rights, he was an adult, though he felt far younger than he would ever let on. It seemed though that having his parents leave Abaven, if only for awhile, had forced him to grow up a bit. He would rather have them home, along with the rest of his siblings, though he was still grateful that some had stayed.

While patrolling the borders was something that was a responsibility of his, he didn't exactly answer to wolves that called. But why not, he figured? It couldn't do much harm. The massive boy moved across the plains, aiming toward the borders near the rapids, where the call had echoed from. It wasn't the most pleasant of days, with the cool spring rain beating down in a steady fashion on the earth, but that would not deter him. His young face, still clearly clinging to remnants of a youth that was in such recent past, was a picture of determination. It was void of childish curiosity; his eyebrows were drawn together tightly as he made his way to the stranger, finally spotting her and quickening his pace.

There was little time for pleasantries, as far as he was concerned. "What do you want here?" the yearling would ask plainly, his head tilting to the side as he examined her with narrowed eyes. Perhaps she might not take him seriously, for he was clearly a boy still despite being more than a head taller than her, but he was as dedicated to defending Abaven as his elders. "And what's your name?"

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