Wolf RPG

Full Version: real gods knife you up
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like a tank, sirin moves through the forest covered grotto; uncaring that his wide pawprints leave a trail in freshly lain snow that lead right to his lumbering body. he was not a beast made for stealth and had no time for such anyway. the grotto lay nestled between two packs ( perhaps one fading if duskfire glacier is / have moved, torvi hasn't been entirely keeping up, heh ) if the scents upon the shifting winds tell him anything. his nose might not be as sharp as a pureblood's but it still works all the same.

and not seeking to instigate, sirin is content to make his home the grotto, however temporarily his residential stay might be.

instinctually, he seeks out the nearest creek that cuts through the territory; moonbeam gaze finding the fish swimming lazily beneath the thin layer of ice crusting the waters. it creaks beneath his paw and when weight is applied, it cracks. with some maneuvering he is able to remove chunks of ice and snatch up a fish; flopping aggressively betwixt his jaws before it's struggle ceases with the tightening of his jaw.

he carries his kill to the nearest moss covered tree where he hunkers down to begin to snack upon it in that he believes to be total solitude.