Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

Slade cocked an ear behind him, the left aud swiveling to catch the fleeting flutter of a bluejay heading off through the flatlands. Very prompt did it return to her as he reestablished his focus on her. He could see her visibly relax in his presence at his bid, and that pleased him; he wanted her comfortable, as it allowed more intimate and in depth feeling out of each other. For a wolf to be guarded of another only proved harder to establish a connection with one another. He wanted to exchange with her, not simply give.

"It is true. It takes a special resilience to prioritize others over your own singularity. However, it is those very minute grains of and that make a beach mighty. They work to increase the beach's influence, and even as some are swept away, this does not phase the beach," he narrated dragging a gentle paw against the line between the wet of the river and the sandy banks of its edge. "Because always more will come to replace those who are lost." It was a lesson all living things who worked in harmony had memorized. If in perfect tandem, the balance would always remain. One soul lost, another would soon fill its soles.

The Shadow Sire chose not to infringe on her beliefs. If she chose to label herself independant of all influence, tied down by nothing, so be it. But in truth, all were servants to something in one way to another. The Lord served his subject through flawless leadership. The subject served their lord through unhesitant thrallship. Whether this was seen in the cohersion of lows and highs or even balance, everyone was a servant. Was she not subject to serve her body? Food and thirst were demanded to be quelled, and in exchange she would be given life, energy, motion, health. Were the plants not in constant vie for nutrients from the soil, the air, the sun? Where it would release oxygen, minerals, the channels of root broken dirt for water to have safe and eased passage through? Servitude was more than the narrowminded view, but Slade understood how the sterotype was skewed. He would save this conversation for a later date  with the young beauty.

"I do. It is indeed West, a gorgeous sect of land, rich with forests and inspiring bounty for the royalty in which we will be. It will take quite the time to get there, but we aren't really in a rush, so this would be the best of times to get to know one another, in my opinion, as we travel. As hard as Cry travels, I wouldn't be suprised if this is his first real rest in a while. He pushes himself harder than most."