Whitefish River novocaine

[size=medium]"sell your soul not your whole self"[/size]

[size=small]With the white mantle that had become the Teekon Wild's rug progressively disappearing to expose a layer of dirt and fresh grasses the solitary Ostrega strayed from his tight foxhole with eager quickness. Even if Ciervo cared very little for the ulterior reasons (such as renewal and birthings) others gave to the upcoming season he was, strangely, really itching to see already the white of Winter leave at last, mostly because this would finally give him a good enough reason to leave the shithole of a den he currently had and move to eastern, richer, lands.
It was not as he needed the sprouting flowers to signal that it was time to go, he could leave at any time, he knew that, but he also knew how stupid it was to dispose of his temporal shelter while the cold of Winter still stalked the nights.

Even if the place was barely capable of fitting him and the scent of its past tenant still lingered in the walls, Ciervo had an urging desire to ditch his bachelor pad as soon as possible. He had, not strangely, already grown bored of the place, of the Neverwinter Forest and it's sad surrounding areas.
He wanted something else, and hopefully with his sister in tow, he would get that something as soon as the last bits of snow disappeared from the soil.

That however didn't mean that he'd sit with crossed arms to wait for Spring to butt in and take over; with his impulsiveness gnawing at the bottom of his stomach and the family's trademark wanderlust swallowing him whole it was not uncommon for him to be out and about already, when the pinkish glow of dawn was beginning to paint the sky.

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