Hux awakens just as the sun begins to rise, the western sky a dusky blue while ribbons of pink and orange begin to swirl in the east. He decides to make an early morning patrol and heads north as the shadows shrink all around him. The sky is rife with birdsong, a sound that often annoys him, but this morning he does not mind the cheerful cries of the winged creatures trilling from the evergreen canopies. Hux has not made much progress before another sound cuts through the birdsong and shatters his easygoing mood. A shrill, bone chilling scream.
His ears twitch in alarm but he does not stop, bolting into a sprint towards what he believes to be the source of the cry. Now, he is overflowing with anxiety, and he wonders what has gone wrong this time - things have not been perfect in Drageda lately, with Thuringwethil's illness, Wildfire's disappearance... arlo's death. He hurries on, hoping that perhaps he will reach the woman in peril before another tragedy arises.
The female may have been a shadow, but he spots and recognises her for what she really is - a beautiful wolfess, but one with unspeakable fear in her eyes. Or is it pain? Hux does not know. His ears lower as he pauses a healthy distance away from her, wishing not to alarm her further. "Are you hurt?" he asks, knowing that this is the most important question, which must be asked first. Still, he is puzzled by the lack of blood, the absence of any evildoer, not a wolf nor a predator in range.
His ears twitch in alarm but he does not stop, bolting into a sprint towards what he believes to be the source of the cry. Now, he is overflowing with anxiety, and he wonders what has gone wrong this time - things have not been perfect in Drageda lately, with Thuringwethil's illness, Wildfire's disappearance... arlo's death. He hurries on, hoping that perhaps he will reach the woman in peril before another tragedy arises.
The female may have been a shadow, but he spots and recognises her for what she really is - a beautiful wolfess, but one with unspeakable fear in her eyes. Or is it pain? Hux does not know. His ears lower as he pauses a healthy distance away from her, wishing not to alarm her further. "Are you hurt?" he asks, knowing that this is the most important question, which must be asked first. Still, he is puzzled by the lack of blood, the absence of any evildoer, not a wolf nor a predator in range.
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-- tricks, tools, joy - by Corva - September 24, 2017, 03:39 PM
RE: -- tricks, tools, joy - by Hux - September 28, 2017, 08:39 PM