Wolf RPG

Now since events of the 'outsiders' had kinda shaken up the more violent prone of his insane family, Cyril decided to take a break from them and travel up towards the coast. Perhaps he'd find something to put him back in the good graces of his petty lolligagging family.

Mozying along the shore, he came across a pretty-looking grove full of strange tree's he'd never seen before. Oddly enough there were big brown round things hanging from the top. If this was a tree, then that must be some kind of edible substance, no matter how disgusting. He stood on his hind legs, placing his front paws on the bendy trunk. Cyril began shoving at it, not quite with all his manly man strength, but enough to see the top swinging about, with the hairy things not loose enough yet. Then he was determined to get one of those stubborn things down. He started pushing on it with all the force of an ox on a plow going through a particularlly stony field.

Suddenly, one of the round things started to break away. Hungry for anything at this point in the famine, he pushed off the tree and jumped for it as it fell. Apparrently these things were harder than they looked, unfortunately. It hit him in between the eyes with a thud, falling with him as they hit the soft sand togethter.

Since Cyril came from generations of hard-heads, however, he wasn't going down that easy. Getting to his feet, he blinked a few times only to see a world of magical hallucinations.

Menta had been approaching this new wolf to say hello - after all, her most recent wolf encounters had all been friendly, so what was to say that this would be any different? The cream was a social sort - when she noticed his bizarre behavior and came to a stop. His dark front paws leapt up onto the tree and his strength made it give sway. Menta had never seen a tree older than a sapling so easily be pushed around; then again, the whole reason the female was strolling down the beach front was that it was an entirely new concept to her.

The sand was not an entirely pleasant feeling to have and her paws kept reminding her of such as the grainy sensation stuck to them with every step - but this dark wolf several feet ahead of her turned her irritation into amusement. His goal became apparent when something - a fruit of some sort, she could only assume - dropped.. right onto his head. It took some serious practice with holding composure not to laugh right then and there, and instead Menta took a few cautious steps closer in his direction.

Are you alright? she called out, not entirely able to keep the amusement out of her usually low and steady voice. This gain of his meant he was wiser and more experienced with this beach area and perhaps knew more of other food. Hopefully, Menta thought for herself - she had heard stories of both wisdom and memories being lost for wolves after particularly hard head injuries, and she wasn't entirely sure how hard that hit had been.

Cyril Ferritti

Menta