Romance is in the air...this is probably the most beautiful and scenic place in Blossom Forest. For the athletic and determined to come with their mates, for time away from pups. Only adults may come here; some of the ledges are too far apart for teens or pups to cross and some too high to scale.
IP: 156.34.156.128
Posted on October 1, 2011 at 10:33:26 PM by Quirino
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Even though it is still quite early on and you cannot exactly tell what it will be like later, at the moment, the day is fine. The sky is clear and blue, a few fleecy clouds drifted across the heavens. The yellow orb that is commonly acknowledged as the sun shone down upon the tanned rock ledges of Rainbow Cliff. From above, the bright god observed the scene. Perhaps it smiled at what it saw.. And what did it see, you ask? It saw a wolf. Not just any wolf, but a very small wolf. To be more specific, it saw a red wolf. And to delve into particulars even more than that, it saw Quirino, son of Seline and Sniper, brother of Cade and grandson of the mighty Saladin. He was... climbing. Or something akin to that. His gait was a glorious combination of mincing walks, quick, few paced gallops and mighty leaps. Every now and again he would stop and backtrack so he could get a longer run at a particularly large chasm or high road block. He was a pup, but he was not a normal pup. His blood was that of a Satanican prince. When it came time, he would stand out among his generation and rule either the Andere Seite pack (the place that his mother would soon be the alphess of) or, if not that, the whole stinkin' lot of his bloodline. The bone white and crimson warriors were the most elite wolves in the land. They would not back down from any obstacle. And he would not be held back by the foolish tale that pups could not climb Rainbow Cliff. The reason of the myth was evident enough when you thought of it. Mother mundanes and father mundanes hadn't wanted their squirming midgets to follow them when they snuck out for a date. Speaking of mothers... His mother was going to kill him when she came back from her fight with that miserable excuse for an alpha (was his name Kree?) and realized that he was nowhere to be seen. She had expressly told him to stay relatively put, but it had been so borrrinnng to watch as she outclassed the poor boy to death. Her moves were superb as usual, but watching her dance around the clumsy brutus hadn't been very educational accept perhaps in a 'what NOT to do' type manner. He almost wished he was more of a sadist so it would be fun to watch a novice get thrashed by a master of the fighting art. He walk-ran-jumped along in silence for a while, at peace with the physical labour of his climb and his thoughts, which, although irrelevant, were rather amusing. The crimson coated soldier was paying attention, or so he thought, to his surroundings, but evidently not enough. His wary dark eyes missed something on the trail. He began to slip. His luminaries widened and he scrabbled for a pawhold. He managed to swiftly hook his scarlet paws around a ledge. He began to painstakingly haul himself up, inch by inch moving closer in a combination effort using all the muscles in his young body. It seemed like he would make it out perfectly alright save for a bruise on his shoulder and some scuff marks on his fronts. But the shale crumbled. He plummeted. Quirio fell for what seemed like forever before he bounced off a convenient shrub and began to tumble down. He was silent most of the way down, most likely it was utter shock rather than any sort of bravery that kept him from vocalizing. After a few seconds of mad sliding, the small stag landed (with a pronounced thump) on a lower ledge. His primary concern was not, suprisingly, the pain in his right front paw, but more his head. He had obviously hit it on the way down the cliff, as his vision was going sort of fuzzy around the edges. He was sort of dizzy too... He drifted into unconsciousness for a moment before managing to snap out of his trance. He had to get up. Gingerly, the brujo attempted to rise to his paws. As soon as he began the feat, arrows of pain shot up his leg, their origination being his right front foot. Eventually, he managed to crawl to a sitting position. From there on he merely he sat still, looking very much like the foolish puppy he was but not realizing it. He was going to get himself out of his situation. Somehow. In the meantime, he just hoped no Satanican was around to witness his stupidity - he'd never be able to live it down.  |
Replies:
- I watched the brutality through the scope of my rifle.. - By P.S.G Sniper October 2, 2011 at 11:15:49 PM
only the strongest will survive - By Quirino October 4, 2011 at 00:29:15 AM
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