petyr van abel

Lasher · July 31, 2013, 01:58 PM

:: ooc text

skulking as befit his status — predator, prey — lasher paused to lift his muzzle into the air. there were no scents of the mountain wolves he had loved here, but more than that, there was not the barest hint of his witch. siku — yes, that had been her name — his heart hurt within him for her loss. tears brimmed in his eyes. crying. i am crying, he whispered into the howl of the summerwind, a sort of consternation colouring his tone.

he continued to pick his way aimlessly down the mountainside. lasher was alone, and he felt the crush of it in his bones. but still he stopped from time to time, to listen for their voices, to trace the air for their fierce scents. and he wept.