i know we're bent, but we're not broken
04-21-2014, 01:35 PM
Elysium. The word was fresh on the brute's tongue, spoken by his sire in his stories. It was peculiar that a pack of such strange habits. Claiming of wolves to be used under command. The man chuckled to himself, ears swiveling forth and nose sampling the air. The territories of this pack was past this river, at the adjacent bank to his. It would be best to not risk an injury for trespassing and causing an offense to whatever wolf would greet him, likely angrily. The man knew he would be thought to be a trespasser on the lands of the monarch, so he would set his defenses if he were to be assaulted. Burning pupils narrowed to slits, feet planted, tail raised. The man would not show submission to the wolf whom would he greet, nor would he show hostility. Instead, the man would show the wolf respect, and stay calm and collected. Perhaps he could be taken under the wing of one of the higher ranked warriors to learn more about the art of fighting, perhaps a new style. One of offense and one of defense? The brute could not simply resist the urge of licking his lips. This would be certainly an interesting encounter. Even the breeze spoke of it. Suddenly, if not, quickly, a scent would approach him, his nose twitching as the man gave a bark of greeting, awaiting the appearance of an Elysium member. It would not be much longer before he would be greeted himself. Walk, "Talk", Think |
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