Ocean's Breath Plateau cold water

@Karma  <3

The wraith moved across the stretch of land with his head held low and the blades of fur along his spine standing rigidly. He was bothered, but the swarthy brute was intent to hold his emotions in check. He knew that it would take time to grow. He knew that he could not expect all of the wolves he had recruited to conform to his standards and his culture. But the great wraith sought the end of his crusade. He wished to bring youth in and fill his ranks until he had a small army beneath him. He longed to watch them be baptized by the waters and to believe as he had when he had been full of youth and pride. All that had fallen on him was disaster and suffering. He still had not fully healed from the bear attack. The claw marks that were left against his shoulder and the jagged line that had been cut from the bridge of his muzzle were daily reminders of the harsh reality of life. He could still be killed. 

Though the great leviathan had been strictly instructed to rest and to heal, he could not stand to waste away in the confines of his cavernous den. The crashing of the waves did little more than to drive anxiety through him. Each beating against the stone was like a nail in his head. He had to leave the depths for a short while. So, the sea king moved like a shadow against the dark backdrop that was supplied by the evening air. His rich mahogany eyes scoured the plateau for a sign that he was still following the right path. 

bwuh i'm the worst & let this get away from me while i was doin replies yesterday i'm sry ;o; ♥

His jaws snap worthlessly at another disappearing bunny tail, and the veteran lets out a frustrated grunt, finally rearing his big head up above the grassline. Ugly and black against the fading sun, Karma shuttled through the natural scene like the smog of machinery, the gross reminder of war and battle and oppression against the freedom of the Wilds. New cuts puckered with scabs around his legs and those tattered ears stood as high as they could still reach on his skull, that black-gold eye sweeping about the dusky plateau.

So, dinner was lost. It mattered little - he'd never been opposed to stealing from vultures. A soldier was little more than carrion fodder anyway. Pinning those same ruined ears back against his head, he let his head fall between his shoulders, skulking through the brief glimpses in the grass, a big, dark shadow. Theme of the night, it seemed; his nose caught his company before he did, the bassline tense of his muscles surfacing with a ripple beneath his matted fur. So far, the residents of Teacup hadn't been entirely neighborly, and with night descending, he wasn't about to allow the pitchfork-shaking locals any sort of advantage on his bad eye and big, target-painted butt.

Shuddering to a slow stop, he lifted his head, a low summons of a chuff wuffing through closed lips, ruined ears facing forward. Who's there, yo?

ah! you have nothing to apologize for. <33 your writing is lovely and i would steal karma away if i could. there is no rush to reply at all.

 

The wraith’s mind was fading.
 
It was as though he had imagined himself as ruler over the entire shoreline. The thought of other bodies on his land seemed to settle with him like pricking needles in his flesh. If they did not pledge themselves to the cause of the depths, they had no place near the lapping waves. So when his dark gaze settled on a grizzled old figure, his fur began to rise and his crown was lifted upward.
 
The wolf before him was not unfamiliar, at least in his stature and nature. The leviathan had seen many like him on Warsaw. They were beasts of war – creatures who had served none other than the gods of battle and carnage. The swarthy sea king had aimed to place himself among them, and had fought many wicked fights alongside their kind. For a fraction of a second, he thought himself back home among the wolves of the islands. There was a familiar wisp of salt on the breeze that reminded him of his exile, and he quickly grounded himself to the plateau where they both stood.
 
Skellige was quick in his attempt to conceal the limp that plagued his rigid limb. He turned his frame to the side so that the sea-salt colored markings were shown to the strange beast. A part of him had forgotten that the Cairn ribs did very little to demonstrate his standing in the Teekon wilds. Still, his habits were difficult to shed.
 
The chuff did not pass over deaf ears. The leviathan drew his skull upward and released a grumble of greeting to the seasoned warrior before him. The waves echoed his thrumming voice and then fell silent so that a verbal remark might fall between the two savage brutes.