Free to Be Me
09-02-2014, 10:47 PM
It was mid day outside the stone walls of the cave. But in here it was always dark and calm. It was why the wolf made his den here. The Singing Caverns stretched deep through the mountains, and had a few different entrances. Otherwise they wouldn't sing as they did. It was why the wind moved through them. But the brute's place among them was his own. It was far back into belly of the mountain, in the sanctuary that he had meet many a pretty young woman in, all of whom had left him less than happy. It had just been a pretty site back then, with it's pool of transparent, crystal blue water, and the dim, soft blue light that filled the cave. It was one of those places that had made for an interesting scene. But now, it was what he called his home. It was where he came to lay his head and hide from the bleak outside world.
Despite it being mid day outside, Newol was tired from a particularly long and sleepless night and a morning of scouting, keeping up with all the new pack movement was making his head spin, he'd been unable to keep going and so retires for the time being. Laid out on the floor, he was curled up on the only large came belt he had. Only a few steps from the water's edge. Again a woman would dance across his mind. Serra. The slate pack few that had comforted him on more than one occasion. She'd grown on him and claimed his fancy. Something that was well guarded these days, thanks to the other women who he'd offered it freely to as a young and restless fool. But he'd finally managed to tell her he loved her and where she could find him, and told her that because of everything he'd been through he would not chase after her. Loosing what was one love already, failing to impress three others, loosing not one, but two mothers. Loosing his pack. All the things that haunted him. He was not going to proceed without caution anymore. He was not going to pressure anyone into tying themselves to his battered soul. But should she see him as an acceptable partner, he would be here, and he would not turn her away. How could he? She was beautiful. And she was kind to him.
But there was still dread in his heart. He wanted someone, something to toe him here to Alacritis. And he'd nearly had it several times, and actually had it once. But fate was cruel, and who's to say it would stop just because he'd gotten stronger. So he was slower this time. Using his head just as much as his heart. Being insistent that she take the time to think about the fact the he loved her. After all he was a Rouge. And she was a pack wolf. But he would not ignore his heart. No. After all that he had been witness to it was his greatest act of defiance to refuse to allow his spirit to be broken. He would cling stead fast to that which made him alive, regardless of what pain it might bring him
Despite it being mid day outside, Newol was tired from a particularly long and sleepless night and a morning of scouting, keeping up with all the new pack movement was making his head spin, he'd been unable to keep going and so retires for the time being. Laid out on the floor, he was curled up on the only large came belt he had. Only a few steps from the water's edge. Again a woman would dance across his mind. Serra. The slate pack few that had comforted him on more than one occasion. She'd grown on him and claimed his fancy. Something that was well guarded these days, thanks to the other women who he'd offered it freely to as a young and restless fool. But he'd finally managed to tell her he loved her and where she could find him, and told her that because of everything he'd been through he would not chase after her. Loosing what was one love already, failing to impress three others, loosing not one, but two mothers. Loosing his pack. All the things that haunted him. He was not going to proceed without caution anymore. He was not going to pressure anyone into tying themselves to his battered soul. But should she see him as an acceptable partner, he would be here, and he would not turn her away. How could he? She was beautiful. And she was kind to him.
But there was still dread in his heart. He wanted someone, something to toe him here to Alacritis. And he'd nearly had it several times, and actually had it once. But fate was cruel, and who's to say it would stop just because he'd gotten stronger. So he was slower this time. Using his head just as much as his heart. Being insistent that she take the time to think about the fact the he loved her. After all he was a Rouge. And she was a pack wolf. But he would not ignore his heart. No. After all that he had been witness to it was his greatest act of defiance to refuse to allow his spirit to be broken. He would cling stead fast to that which made him alive, regardless of what pain it might bring him