Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.
A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.
Re(1): Drowning in the Forest Sea IP: 66.230.117.73 Posted on June 25, 2012 at 09:22:14 AM by Argent
Many wolves favored Blossom Field for it's beautiful serenity; the colors of the many-hued flowers shining up towards the sun in a show of reverent unity. To be there was to be at peace; to know a fraction of that harmony as natural as the floral carpet beneathpaws.
... But he was not like most wolves. It had been a long time since Argent had sought out company; perhaps not so long as he told it, but more than long enough to make him cautious of interlopers in this - his perfect, closed-off world. The ground around him was barren, and in every direction the ruinous wages of fire could be seen. Ground that remained charred and broken, pockmarked with plumes of smoke and ash. The ruined skeletal structures of trees begging the uncaring sky for aid.
Yet, Argent found it calm here. The others could not mock his deformity, his weakness. Here he could dream and be at peace, without the cacophonous voices of others. He had even found the traces of life amongst the shattered land - tiny ants crawling amidst their legions, and sunflowers offering shelter and beauty... But what he had not found, in his life amongst the barrens, was another wolf that would willingly draw near.
Indeed, the girl - with hesitation at the choking smog - seemed ready to go back to the safety of the verdant lands. Concern and curious mixed in the loner's cloudy grey eyes. Dare he approach? It would be nice to see someone friendly, but what if she was hostile? He could not run, not with this. His nostrils curled and he felt his weak leg itch, as if it might crumble in upon itself.
Maybe she was an emissary of one of the clans... Of the packs. He did not wish to be drafted into some foolish notion of community, not now. And yet... She was silent. Almost unnaturally so, as if - he shot her a quick glance - she dared not, could not make a sound. And the look in her eyes... Perhaps he was wrong, but he knew loneliness and against his better well, begin to slowly limp towards the stranger.
Shifting his weight so that he didn't seem as ponderous, and doing his best to ignore the soot checkering his brown coat, Argent bared his teeth in a somewhat cautious smile. "Not many come out this far. Were you looking for something, somebody?"
Maybe a dream? Maybe the appeal of the place was how it took pleasant-seeming impossibilities and made them feel possible... One thing was almost certain - it was doubtful the elegant newcomer had been looking for a scar-spackled and weak foundling alone on his own. Argent turned his face to hide it and shame, waiting for a reply. Replies:
