i had seen the submarine.

Kierkegaard · October 30, 2014, 07:20 PM

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The leg still ached. The ashen brute had trudged through his time of treating the wound and preventing the infection from spreading or getting worse. Slowly, he was noting a difference. His movement was less restricted. The leg still hurt him, but he was not entirely useless. Still, the Sairensu wolf knew that it would require more time. He was not a patient creature, and so he did not remain dormant. In his mind, stretching the muscle and keeping himself active would save him more pain later on. The brute of a creature could hardly muddle through it, though.
Kierkegaard had taken to roaming outside of Ouroboros Spine. The surrounding areas were not difficult for him to maneuver through and they seemed relatively secluded. He had enjoyed the silence. More than that, however, Kierkegaard had noticed a difficulty hunting. His injury had kept him away from wandering prey and had forced him to survive – on his own – on fish. Because of this, his figure was gaunt and ghastly in appearance. His once brutish form had been diminished to ragged bones and flyaway fur along his neck and shoulders. The ashen creature feared that he would never be able to hunt the way he had before.
Taking to the woods, the large male trod on moist earth. There was a chill in the air despite the sun. He followed a wandering trail for nearly an hour before the scent of hare crossed his nose and his ears pricked forward, alert. Scoping the undergrowth, Kierkegaard caught sight of the brown creature rummaging around on the forest floor. It appeared as though it had not quite seen the wolf in waiting yet. Lowering himself down, just slightly, Kierkegaard inched forward. The strain against his back leg was excruciating, but he swallowed the fear in his gut and forced himself to keep moving. Before he had a chance to spring, the rabbit turned to face him with an alarmed expression before darting off.
Anger flooded through the grey monster and his feet tore against the earth in pursuit of the prey animal. Long strides carried him for more than ten minutes of running before he found himself in a miserable amount of pain. Slowing to a trot, and then to a complete standstill, Kierkegaard breathed heavily into the autumn air. The rage did not subside. Lifting his skull upwards, the grey wolf caught sight of another… a female with her head pressed against the gnarled bark of a tree. Blinking slowly, the ashen ghost locked his fiery eyes on her without saying a word.