the fire's only lit when death spits on it
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Ooc — Anthony
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#2
So... The full moon was like yesterday...But what the hell, lets say it's today :P

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Three times in a row had the doppelganger seen the moon this time, three times in just one awakening. He was feeling powerful. Meldresi offered him not so long ago to free him from his weaker state of mind, the weaker side of him that crumbled to the ground whenever he wasn't able to deal with a tough situation. It had been This man who saved Keith from death many times before, in his homeland mostly, it had been him, MoonBane, the one to face the problems Keith got into.

The moonlight always made him feel at home, it was like a familiar face that understood him, that released him from his leashes. But tonight, it was company. It had never been his job to guard the packlands before he arrived to Blackfeather, and so far he wasn't completely sure he liked it. It made him thing about where his life was turning to. He had never put so much commitment to something before, and even though it wasn't a difficult task, he found it hard to keep a hold to it for much longer. He wasn't that guy.

Maybe it was her. Maybe his bond to the night priestess was so strong that he feared letting her down. Or maybe he was just too fond of her to leave.

It was just too much to think about, too much for him at least, so he decided to shun the thoughts away and keep his mind busy on something else. Elk. He had seen them around a couple of times, a big herd that he planned to target with the rest of the pack soon. So he went out to track them. Through the dark woods when the moon was at its highest point, moving silently in the darkness of the woods. But, where did they go? The scent had dissipated in the wind, it wasn't anywhere near for the young Zeta to catch it. Maybe they're outside the territory.

He crossed the borders around midnight, shining brightly under the moonlight. He prowled silently, sniffing his surroundings seeking for a hint on the herd's whereabouts. But that wasn't the scent he got. Was he imagining it? That scent was buried deep within his memories, but not forgotten.

Kedge.

The northerner whispered as he halted to a stop. Should he hide? Should he go to him and say hi? His muscles tensed, and his mind went BOOM! But his body didn't move. He stood like a gargoyle in the open plain.

Messages In This Thread
the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Kenneth - November 07, 2014, 08:10 AM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Bane - November 07, 2014, 08:52 AM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Kenneth - November 07, 2014, 09:06 AM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Bane - November 08, 2014, 11:55 PM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Kenneth - November 10, 2014, 09:07 AM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Bane - November 11, 2014, 09:41 PM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Kenneth - November 15, 2014, 03:34 AM
RE: the fire's only lit when death spits on it - by Bane - November 29, 2014, 09:45 PM