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He saw from a great distance away that there were strange spires of stone before him. This piqued his interest, but what drew him away from his urge to charge ahead were the scents of wolf upon the wind. They were not strong - not yet - and to Tryphon this meant he had more time to track the herd. The last thing the young man wanted was to be confronted by a pack of hungry wolves. When his course intersected with a grove of saplings layered in a strong array of scents, he stopped and reversed — but there were signs upon those saplings that the elk had been nearby, nibbling at the fresh shoots. It pained him to pull away, but Tryphon had learned from his past mistakes.
He followed the fringe of the territory as best he could. Wherever he found a marking, he treated it as a firm warning and did not cross it. Yet the longer he lingered upon the borders the more he felt... disconnected. Not only from the herd he had been tracking (and the hunger that grew in his gut with each day), but a strong disconnect from all that a wolf was. Perhaps it was this deeply rooted sense of need inside of him, or a desire to be social for once in his life — but the man cast back his head and sang to the spring winds, alerting anyone nearby that he was present. That he existed.
But still, he pulled away from the warning signs among the reeds and roots, giving them such a wide berth that anyone searching for the origin of the call would be met with empty space - lest they distance themselves from the edge of the claim, where both Tryphon and any interested party would be on equal footing; two lone wolves in the middle of nowhere, rather than a rogue lingering on unfriendly borders. Of course he was jumping to conclusions... Who was to say that Tryphon would be assailed in the same manner as his long-ago trespass? At least he was thoughtful enough to find a neutral meeting place.
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He saw from a great distance away that there were strange spires of stone before him. This piqued his interest, but what drew him away from his urge to charge ahead were the scents of wolf upon the wind. They were not strong - not yet - and to Tryphon this meant he had more time to track the herd. The last thing the young man wanted was to be confronted by a pack of hungry wolves. When his course intersected with a grove of saplings layered in a strong array of scents, he stopped and reversed — but there were signs upon those saplings that the elk had been nearby, nibbling at the fresh shoots. It pained him to pull away, but Tryphon had learned from his past mistakes.
He followed the fringe of the territory as best he could. Wherever he found a marking, he treated it as a firm warning and did not cross it. Yet the longer he lingered upon the borders the more he felt... disconnected. Not only from the herd he had been tracking (and the hunger that grew in his gut with each day), but a strong disconnect from all that a wolf was. Perhaps it was this deeply rooted sense of need inside of him, or a desire to be social for once in his life — but the man cast back his head and sang to the spring winds, alerting anyone nearby that he was present. That he existed.
But still, he pulled away from the warning signs among the reeds and roots, giving them such a wide berth that anyone searching for the origin of the call would be met with empty space - lest they distance themselves from the edge of the claim, where both Tryphon and any interested party would be on equal footing; two lone wolves in the middle of nowhere, rather than a rogue lingering on unfriendly borders. Of course he was jumping to conclusions... Who was to say that Tryphon would be assailed in the same manner as his long-ago trespass? At least he was thoughtful enough to find a neutral meeting place.
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Messages In This Thread
emitting frequencies - by Larus - March 22, 2017, 07:00 PM
RE: emitting frequencies - by RIP Krypton - March 28, 2017, 09:08 PM
RE: emitting frequencies - by Larus - March 31, 2017, 11:43 AM
RE: emitting frequencies - by RIP Krypton - April 05, 2017, 10:49 PM