At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing. Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
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Posted on June 5, 2012 at 10:06:24 AM by S L E I P N I R
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and we f o u g h t for each inch g a i n e d Silence. He was in love with silence. Silence did not plague him now, however. The soft musical trickle of water as it made its way down these small waterfalls swept around him, and took him up in its lyrical song. Perhaps missing the silence was a good thing though. He had just got here after all, and after months of nothing but his own breathing, the squeal of animals and the pounding of his own heart. Sleipnir, did, love killing. He was a civilized chap though, so he wasn’t going to run around killing every wolf he saw. Nor was he that brawny, eventually one would get him- or indeed, even that stupid. Killing required a certain finesse that he felt that he and he alone had. Here comes the new wolf assassin, sauntering into these lands called Blossom Forest with his heart on his sleeve and his cockiness right on his tongue. A single black paw dangled in the water that rushed past, hectic to continue its journey, while the rest of him lazed at the side of the stream. Sleipnir was not unaware of everything going on around him, however. His ears were open, his nose was smelling and even his tongue occasionally flitted out into the air to taste and see if anyone was attempting to approach him. But it had been months. Maybe his senses truly had dulled. He hoped not, because it was sincerely difficult to play games that utterly bewitched someone’s mind if you got yourself bewitched. Not that Sleipnir was overly interested in wordplay. He did , indeed sometimes get confused himself. Like most normal wolves, he was far too interested in himself to really pay attention to anyone else. That took effort, and if he could get away with putting as little effort into it as possible, well... The sky above as blue and calm, the rays of light refracting off the leaves above him. It was nice here, serene. He liked it, and hated it at the same time. The clamour of battle held more meaning to him, and yet the time alone allowed him to realise why he liked fighting so much. Of course he knew it wasn’t normal. He knew he wasn’t normal. Sleipnir didn’t even have a normal name ; yes, he knew the origin of his name. How? A tale for a different day, perhaps. Sleipnir, or Sleip to his friends, came from the eight legged horse of Odin in Norse myth. Well, if he was a Norse wolf, wouldn’t he love war, death and fighting? It all came naturally to him. The black wolf sighed, and watched the water reflect light off of its surface, sending rainbows skittering across the land. He watched the greens, reds, blues and yellows swirl in tandem with the rushing water, and then he turned his head to watch the birds dance their dance across the sky. So peaceful, he thought. Sleipnir didn’t see a use for peace, other than the tempering of vicious spirits. He was vicious, or he could be... He didn’t want to be tempered. He wanted to range as wild and free as he could for all of his life, running with his paws in front and his tail behind. His favourite game to play, though, was the game of alpha and challenger... Maybe one day. A smile flashed across Sleipnir’s face as he sat, and waited for company. Surely it wouldn’t take all day, for someone to come and greet a new wolf. But then again, stranger things have happened. Male | Adult | No Pack | Ocean  |
Replies:
- Feels Like Flying - By Silver Wing June 5, 2012 at 10:22:52 AM
Ignore - By bluemoon12 June 10, 2012 at 01:51:40 AM
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