Whittier was no genius. Most of the time, he couldn't really even be considered bright. And more often that not, the only time his "wit" was recognized was due to the fact that it was an amusing coincidence that that was his name, not so much that he actual had such an attribution to his character.
But that day, it might have been said that the young wolf was having a rather smart moment. Hell, I'll say it: an intelligent moment. He'd made it to the Coast, and though the adolescent had not been wise enough to find his way to the Grove, he'd at least recognized that it was not located at all near the ocean. That was the first time he'd considered turning around and going back the way he'd come, but in doing so he'd run into the border of a pack. Not wanting to make nice with the natives and give them hope that he would join them, he decided to turn East. He knew this was not the direction he ought to take to bring him to his ultimate goal, but he had never actually seen the ocean before and was quick to find the distant scent of saltwater too irresistible to refuse.
So, a few hours later the yearling found himself standing with sand between his toes. Whittier gawked at the waves as they swept over the shore. In truth, it wasn't all that incredible to him. He'd seen lakes that shared similar characteristics, though it was rather interesting to find that there was no land anywhere upon the distant horizon. And he did rather like the salty scent of the air. Turning his paws, Whittier strode along the shore, smiling slightly as the tide rolled across his paws.
But that day, it might have been said that the young wolf was having a rather smart moment. Hell, I'll say it: an intelligent moment. He'd made it to the Coast, and though the adolescent had not been wise enough to find his way to the Grove, he'd at least recognized that it was not located at all near the ocean. That was the first time he'd considered turning around and going back the way he'd come, but in doing so he'd run into the border of a pack. Not wanting to make nice with the natives and give them hope that he would join them, he decided to turn East. He knew this was not the direction he ought to take to bring him to his ultimate goal, but he had never actually seen the ocean before and was quick to find the distant scent of saltwater too irresistible to refuse.
So, a few hours later the yearling found himself standing with sand between his toes. Whittier gawked at the waves as they swept over the shore. In truth, it wasn't all that incredible to him. He'd seen lakes that shared similar characteristics, though it was rather interesting to find that there was no land anywhere upon the distant horizon. And he did rather like the salty scent of the air. Turning his paws, Whittier strode along the shore, smiling slightly as the tide rolled across his paws.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »