Wolf RPG

Full Version: One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning
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He winced. And again. And again, stopping every time just to pull the occasional and most definitely – painful thorn from his paw. And each time this happened, a low rumble would sound within his throat, escaping his lips whenever he felt the sharp sting of thorns penetrating his leathery pads. It was infuriating, but still, the scenery made up for it as Neako glanced around at the budding bushes and trees around him. As he strolled cautiously, his night colored pelt bristled slightly as the odd spotlight of sun touched his back, warming him some as he practically tiptoed through the thorn scattered forest.

Black ears flicked forward as the lone wolf came to a gradually halt, his bright amber eyes widened slightly as he listened to the sound of rustling to one side of him, swiftly his head spun around and his now focused stare was in search of the source of the noise. Silently, Neako lowered his head, though he avoided touching his nose to the floor because the last thing he needed was a thorn to the nose. Now that would be painful! So carefully, the ebony male remained still, nostrils flaring as he waited patiently for the creature to reveal itself.
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When he returns to the brambly woods, he realizes it's because he missed the smell. The place is aromatic, even in the cold, and Grievous— a bloodthirsty animal by nature— oddly finds himself attracted to the lingering permeation of fruit-scent. He enjoys the perfume, despite knowing he wasn't interested in eating its source.

His own paw pads, bred on much harder, sharper ground than this, are not affected any by the thorns he treads on. Instead, his entire focus has been stolen by the scent of a lone male, and he pursued it with quiet fervor; eager for the social stimulation his kind thrives on. He intended to eventually vie for his place in the ranks of some pack or another, but he had so far pinpointed two prospects within mild proximity of each other, which made him curious to know just how many other groups might be nearby...

This was a glorified detour on his task; unsure if he would come this way again or not.

Made better by the thought he would not spend it alone.

He made sure to stir the bushes as he passes, rounding the thin foliage to present himself fully to the object of his hunt: a tall and dusky canid with eyes bright enough to betray his yet unmet demeanor. Grievous lifted his ears and tail, waving it languidly back and forth, as he pried immediately for the kind of encounter this would be. Who is it that I've found in the asylum of the thornberries? he purrs.

Art thou to be mine friend or foe?
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Carefully, he listened as the rustling eventually stopped and then all of a sudden, started again, so the male's ebony ears continuously pivoted a top his head as he glanced about the shrubbery. His amber eyes gleamed in the dense light of the forest as he searched the woodland cautiously, not knowing what to expect here. So silently, Neako's leathery nose twitched as he scented the cold wind that blew, but soon the lone male's head swiftly jerked up as he noticed a dark figure emerging from the foliage out the corner of his eye. The night colored brute could feel the fur around his neck bristling some as he slowly turned to face the wolf, his eyes studied the male, but as he spoke Neako couldn't help but tilt his head to the side.

Ears continued to move as he listened to the strangers words and the male seemed to question Neako, on his name and whether he was a friend or foe. Pausing for the brief startle, Neako licked his muzzle and replied smoothly, ”I mean no harm..” Neako said, ”So, friend it would seem.” He added as he then offered the male a polite bow of his head, though truthfully, Neako wasn't a fan of just giving out his name to others, so he remained quiet on that matter, merely giving the other male a small smile instead.
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He watches with polite reservation as the opposing male attempted to quickly and quietly ease through the stages of alarm; a decidedly normal response to Grievous' rather sudden presence. He spoke rhetorically as much as he did literally, so while he hadn't truly been looking for an answer to his first question, he was quite serious when asking the second.

The devil smiled, sharing his teeth in a manner that suggested he didn't care much how his query was answered.


I mean no harm, he's told, and by now his smile has faded— reclined into a more proper expression that made it hard to tell if he was pleased or disappointed in the response given.

S'pose I thought not, the grim wolf murmured; thine eyes are too kind; they betray thy true soul. He canted his head, and briefly his eyes dart away as he appeared to remember something related to this matter. Friend it is, he confirms, before his previous words have even had a chance to settle.

Hath thy no pack? he asked, only seeking to confirm his own suspicions as he was unable to pick up any discernibly long-term scents clinging to the nameless male's own musk.

Dost thou prefer the companionless road?
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