<font color=#a1987a><font color=white></font> how am I still alive?</font>

It is odd to the old male, that is.. it's odd to be followed. To be stalked in the night like some peice of meat, another chrew toy. He is not to be mistaken as such, perhaps the smell of that multi-hued she-wolf Rainbow was still on him. He gives himself a quick sniff and decides it is not that which draws the attention of the padded feet that had followed him from the top of the grassy ridge down to this river that he stands so still one could think he was a statue watching the waters of time pass by without a care in the world. He has a care, he cares that in this place he can never be left to his own, that he couldn't just have one moment of peaceful nature left alone in the silence of his own bitter thoughts. Fools they where, all of them.

Demons, Angles, the devil and god. Four things that Paldor knew all to much about, though he can make a good bet that the ones this female thinks of are far different than his own. Though wolves all have a similar appearence; four legs with one paw each, a tail that normally curves this way or that, sharp large teeth for ripping flesh and a body to hold it all in one place. The demons that Paldor knows about are deranged, sociopaths missing all matter of flesh from their body and having the most grewsome appearance that anyone could possibly imagine. Some could kill with looks of an angel though, decieving as always they tried to make the world bend to their will. Demons though, he has found out in times past, can still love. Maybe not others outside their fold, normally if you don't belong and they love you, your a dead soul no matter what anyone tries to do for you.

Angels, another story all together. Though in popular myth they are the beautiful members of society, their looks could drag men from their graves and yet still, not something to be trusted just as much as demons. As he had stopped so too had the following noises from the other, his nose moved bare inches in motion as he sniffed the air, faint but there was the scent of a female, thankfull for Paldor can not smell the bouncing she-wolf that he had met previously. Some how, curiosity never got the best of him, those pale white pupil-less eyes stare off into the water as she came to stand beside him. It must drive wolves insane to see the old male with those ghostly eyes just watching you, staring off into the distance as if there is nothing there. A gift he would always say, is the fools who think him sightless and there for useless. Thusly leaving him alone, for the most part. Unlike she who sits next to him. A normal wolf would have smiled back at her coy-ness, the beauty that she held could probably turn many males on their heads.

"Fools...." he says slowly, his voice deep with the ancient spirits that float all around him, he ignores them just as he ignores her presence other than by speaking. "...are in all lands. Not just here" he says finally turning his head to make those eyes of nothingness look towards her. It's as if they burry themselves within your mind, unblinking and disturbing, serene and yet full of distress, disasterous things have been seen by both of their eyes that, anyone can see. But what exactly those things are, is a mystery to the world. His lips peel themselves away from cracked and yellowed teeth as if to reveal a smile, though it is something he is not used to doing. No, it is not for her benifit that he does this, queen or not he cares very little about her status. Perhaps the one wolf in this land that could care who anyone was title wise. He is a loner, one who will not enter any pack, not even the so called Gypsies that call one of the free-lands their apparent domaine. To him, that is a pack. Something he wants nothing to do with. The feather attached to his fur near his ear sways softly as he turns his face back to the river.

"talks like this"

Name:
Subject:
Message:

Password To Edit Post: