Wolf RPG

The sun had long since set and a peculiar row of shadows had etched across the earth. They arranged themselves in a pattern that resembled the jagged tree tops. The faint light of the moon did well to distort the light heart of the wood. The hulking bear walked with curious argent eyes as his massive paws sunk into the moist earth. There was a satisfying breath of a leaf beneath his pads, but nothing that would draw the notice of any of the passersby. The soturi still expected to catch the pale flickering of one of the Mayfair wolves within the thick foliage. The beauty of the young Deirdre was frightening, but Lærke had not voiced his thoughts to anyone other than the silent guardians of the sky.

The ghostly pair of eyes sought the flickering of the stars above, but the whispering of Donnelaith was raising his flesh and bringing his pounding heart to life. The bear continued his swaying trek through the underbrush and twigs. His ears stood tall atop his heavy crown.

Upon initially joining Donnelaith, Flaris had felt reluctant to leave the Sentinels. That was a sentiment long gone now, as he had come to realize that the queen(s) of the wood didn't mind his coming and going— as long as he always returned. The freedom made him feel more at home here than he did within The Monarchy. Their rules had been severe, but not without purpose. Such a large community couldn't survive without rigid structure and balance.

He remembered his home as he ventured onto the darkened Plateau, one of his more favored haunts, but forgot them quickly as he watched a broadened, bronze figure begin to materialize ahead of him. He held no caution in his approach, smelling his own pack firmly upon the (decided) stranger, though made sure to make his presence known before coming to stand at his packmate's taller, and well-muscled shoulder. "Good evening, my friend. I hope I'm not disturbing your peace."

Lærke

Flaris I