Wolf RPG

Full Version: A First Step into the Wild
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
((OOC: A greetings to you fine Sir/Madame that first reads this post! I offer any such person the opportunity to both reply and inform me as to the appropriateness or quality of my post. As I am fairly uncertain just what tone and/or mood to put into the find Role-Play site.))

Short, familiar pants extend and retract from Samson's open mouth. At the same moment the Dog feels an old, almost forgotten mixture of exhaustion and restlessness. Trees, innumerable, massive, and exuberant behemoths extend far as he can see into the overgrown wood ahead.

The heavy Dog slows to a halt, at the cusp of the treeline. A twist of his neck to look behind himself and Samson can see only an ever-lengthening stretch of green, a sight equally as alien to him as the giants of wood and leaves ahead of him. Samson took the catching of breath as a moment to lay upon the thinning patch of grass he had stood upon. When the Dog could spend time to rest, he could also spend that time thinking. Samson had been told to run, had been commanded to leave. But to where? To what sanctuary? Would he find it in the utterly humongous rocks that were now so much closer?

Samson's breath steadies, his muscles now calm from their burning and aching. It is time to run again. Energetically the Dog jumps into a sprint, dashing into the woods ahead. Samson didn't have the slightest inkling of where he was going, where he'd end up, or what he was even trying to find. Though at least the aged Dog knew he was getting somewhere.
OOC: Hello! For future reference, all IC posts are required to be in past tense. Just thought I'd let you know. ^_^

IC: The grey-furred rabbit charged through the undergrowth, darting in random directions in its attempt to flee. It was disoriented and afraid, and Macawi knew she could use that to her advantage. Her claws tore into the ground as she chased after her lunch. She could smell the hare, and it was making her mouth water.

So focused was she on catching her prey that she didn't notice at all the creature up ahead of her. Suddenly, the rabbit veered to the left, and, before she could register what another set of paws were doing on the forest floor, she crashed into someone. Macawi found herself sprawled on the ground, looking up at the canopy of trees. Her vision spun a bit, and now she was the disoriented one. Silently she cursed after her getaway meal, and then rose to her paws.

In front of her was a… a dog?

"Well," she said, "this is a… surprise." She eyed his collar with curiosity. An owned dog? "What is this one doing here?" she asked, her voice silky and smooth as always. "Is he lost? Macawi can guide this one back to the edge of the Teekon Wilds if he is." She gave the creature her famous coyote grin, still eyeing him with wonder. What was a domesticated dog doing here?
OOC: Ah, my utmost of thanks, Sir/Madame. A shame I missed that bit in the rules. Alas, one or two bits unfortunately always slip through the fissure on these sites for myself.

In both panic and bewilderment Samson wriggled and flailed his way back upright. Very few times had the large Dog been uprooted so suddenly like that. Quickly Samson's erratic scans of the area locked upon a smaller Dog quite a bit too close to him. A smaller canine that had a coat smudged with tan and shades of gray. Whatever the Dog was, it was of no kind Samson had ever seen, though that hardly mattered, he'd seen more kinds of Dog than he'd seen kinds of bird or even buildings. The large Dog had bared his teeth, lowered and snarling, close to bark when the smaller canine spoke.

Guidance? Coupled with a grin already made him wary, though he readjusted to stand normally; at her size he doubted the Dog would be much a threat. Samson needed no guidance. What fool would need guidance to the giant rock that loomed so close him? "Teekon Wilds?" He mimicked with inexperience, the words were new to him, such that they were more a jumble of syllables than anything.

"Don't have the faintest as to what Teekon Wilds are," Samson began, voice slow, certain, and resonant, "Though I am not lost. Going that way I am," a nod of his head towards the rock behemoths he could see through the canopy, "Don't need more direction than that."