Northstar Vale tango to evora - Printable Version

Now this was home...

The thought had passed his mind early on when it had first come into his line of sight hours ago. He had come into the land where the creek entered the part in the high mountains, where the stone walls had opened up and lush green had spilled out into this living, breathing basin. His vantage point high above, it was just like the view from the forested peaks where he had been born. Back when he was a son of a king, living high above the vale over which they ruled.

But Lake had never been a king, and he had never preferred the view of kings, either. No, he had always liked the view from within. Never had he understood the draw of watching when he could be doing, and there was little that had ever held him back from the things he wanted.

Today for example. From the cliffs he had perched upon earlier, he had spied a herd of deer grazing beside a lake to the South, and Lake wanted to eat them. The fact that he was standing upon a fairly steep vertical incline with very few outcroppings for him to use to safely manuever himself down to flat land was certainly not going to stop him from achieving his goal. And, a little while later, his twisted and aching ankle would not be stopping him either.

At least he was on the ground.

Lake sighed irritably as he limped along. He was still determined to hunt, but not quite as sure about how he was going to manage taking down big game when he was alone and a tad more incapacited that usual. Fortunately, a potential solution just so happened to present itself in the form of a blue-eyed, brilliantly white wolf. Maybe it was his hunger, maybe it was his sour mood, but whatever the cause, it seemed to have a pretty poor effect on his social skills.

"Hey! White stuff!" Lake barked to her, "I know of some ungulates we can kill and eat, you in?" He eyed her expectantly, his moodiness present in the pouty scowl on his face. He stood with his front right paw held delicately a few inches above the ground, successfully making him look like a sad, pathetic toddler that was woken far too early from his nap.

The solitude before her seemed to shatter by a sudden call – “Hey white stuff!” Blinking, the she-wolf cast her bright eyes upon the on comer, her gaze sweeping to the light limp before flitting upward to the sour expression. He stood now, holding his forepaw up and cradling it like a pouting cub would. Her own expression remained stoical, her tail giving an idle flick as she assessed the situation. The invitation was far from flattering or welcoming, and a lift of her posture was the first indication that she was less than pleased by it.

“Perhaps,” she murmured smoothly, her eyes narrowing slightly and her weight shifting as she studied the male before her. “If you asked more politely I would consider it,” she finished, pausing and allowing him to either retrace what he had said, or to embrace the sour mood that seemed filtered all across his features.

As if to reiterate her words, she lifted her wolfish eyebrows slightly – had she really been wanting to piss the male off before her, she could have even began tapping her paw on the ground. I’m waiting, her expression seemed to say.