Wolf RPG

The morning was mostly cloudy and the sun wasn't even seen, the sky a dull, drab monotone grey. Hemingway glimpsed forlornly up at the sky knowing that there was, he had little doubt, a very good chance of rain. It was cooler today, giving Hem the impression that fall might come earlier this year. He didn't know for sure — mother nature was a fickle mistress, untamed that followed her own agenda — all he could do was take his knowledge and the weather patterns and form predictions out of them. Perhaps, he considered with a wiry smile, he was simply tired and it was only cooler today because it was overcast and rain that was to likely come was the coolant. The Soothsayer did not allow himself long stretches of sleep for the fear of slumber pulling into the deep, cognitive cycles of REM sleep. The deepest cycle in which he usually got his 'visions' something that had scared him as a child that had became something revered within Bugloss Bend when he had finally broken out of his shell and told an adult about the once nightmares. It was funny how an explanation, a glossy , enigmatic words such as 'special' and 'visions' could twist something from being terrifying to be glorious.

Hemingway had long since ceased being frightened by the 'visions'. His reservation for allowing himself to enter that deep cycle of sleep was because he had yet to find a pack to call home and he did not want to have to deal with being that vulnerable on his lonesome. Instead, he settled for small naps a couple times a day reminiscent of a child. The overcast day, however, was not helping with trying to keep busy and refrain from being so tired that a deep sleep was unavoidable. To keep himself awake and distracted Hemingway kept moving. He had paused in his travels only to fill his stomach with a rabbit he had caught shortly after first waking from another cat nap before he kept moving.

Eventually, he stopped when he came to the bank of a lake, generally not bothered and uninterested in the foul that inhabited the territory, pausing at the bank, lowering his head to lap at the cool, crisp water the lake provided.

Impending rain threatened the valley as rolling clouds obscured the sun and skulked across the sky. Tuwawi outpaced their slow crawl as she swiftly crossed Wapun Meadow back into the heart of Swiftcurrent, eager to curl up in the Sveijarn burrow with the kids to wait out the storm. However, a fleeting interest to take the path nearest to Duck Lake suddenly found her fancy, and the ember skirted around the East border towards the body of water.

However, she had not anticipated her detour to be more than an uneventful scout. An idle body by the shore captured the sanguine she-wolf's attention; a man she did not know. Though her ties to the creek pack were loosening, Tuwawi would defend it as long as her children and husband slept within Swiftcurrent's heart. The bordering territory, duck lake, was no exception.

She made herself known with a lofty stance and swishing tail, still a league away. "A storm's rolling in," she announced to the enigmatic wolf, breaking the ice by testing whether he intended to outpace the gale.

A low boom of thunder caused the thin trees by the lake to quake and tremble, and suddenly Tuwawi felt her desire to converse with the newcomer waiver. Her children needed comfort and protection during storms - or perhaps it was more for Tuwawi's sanity. Kindred had been flooded... destroyed in one fell swoop, and the memories of a great land turned to waste still lingered in her mind. With a few blinks, the vermilion watched the man apathetically, "Its going to be a bad one... you should find some shelter." With her warning in place, she turned and departed back towards her den.