He had enough time away from the sea. He had to be with it once more. And with swift determination, he set for the frigid waves and callous sands.
He distinctly ignored the bay Stavanger once held throne over, refusing to acknowledge his past's demons again; instead he remembered where the coast lay, and followed it parallel. Keeping though the thinning trees, he kept they brine water forever in his nares as his ebony body dashed through the lands. Cry knew exactly how far he was meant to travel. Internally, something else pussed him. Maybe some passion he simply could not extinguish? He wanted to believe it was his fate to be cursed, his chain and collar being the desire to join a pack, to bring it nothing but prosperity, but to inevitably ghost from them once more. This time, however, he wouldn't prey on his own weakness, nor theirs. He wouldn't settle for a pack which was skin and bones. No, the assassin would seek a pack which held no needs, no wants, and in some fractured piece of his logic, he knew it would shape up his phantom tendencies.
He kept his lope up for what seemed like an eternity, and he came to realize he knew not where he was. Good. He alway had managed to wander closer to the sea, his four pads residing on the lush but nipping grains of sand and shells. Dark fur blew in the curteous but powerful summon of breeze the sea purged forth; and everything within him was pleased by it. The only other comparison he could say matched this ecstasy was his time in the winterlands, feeling the everlasting warmth he generated in comparison to the frigid world around him.
Body relaxed, and for once, there were no thoughts, no worries, no memories. There was simply him...
and the sea.
He distinctly ignored the bay Stavanger once held throne over, refusing to acknowledge his past's demons again; instead he remembered where the coast lay, and followed it parallel. Keeping though the thinning trees, he kept they brine water forever in his nares as his ebony body dashed through the lands. Cry knew exactly how far he was meant to travel. Internally, something else pussed him. Maybe some passion he simply could not extinguish? He wanted to believe it was his fate to be cursed, his chain and collar being the desire to join a pack, to bring it nothing but prosperity, but to inevitably ghost from them once more. This time, however, he wouldn't prey on his own weakness, nor theirs. He wouldn't settle for a pack which was skin and bones. No, the assassin would seek a pack which held no needs, no wants, and in some fractured piece of his logic, he knew it would shape up his phantom tendencies.
He kept his lope up for what seemed like an eternity, and he came to realize he knew not where he was. Good. He alway had managed to wander closer to the sea, his four pads residing on the lush but nipping grains of sand and shells. Dark fur blew in the curteous but powerful summon of breeze the sea purged forth; and everything within him was pleased by it. The only other comparison he could say matched this ecstasy was his time in the winterlands, feeling the everlasting warmth he generated in comparison to the frigid world around him.
Body relaxed, and for once, there were no thoughts, no worries, no memories. There was simply him...
and the sea.
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Messages In This Thread
Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Cry - October 04, 2018, 04:54 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Helix - October 06, 2018, 01:07 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Cry - October 08, 2018, 12:36 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Helix - October 13, 2018, 02:56 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Cry - October 16, 2018, 03:51 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Helix - October 19, 2018, 04:59 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Cry - October 23, 2018, 05:18 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Helix - October 25, 2018, 07:26 PM
RE: Upon a weary night, the bell tolled. - by Cry - October 31, 2018, 10:01 AM