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: 168.103.248.154
Posted on May 24, 2013 at 09:37:26 PM by NeMO
. Winter is Coming . The pale bastard was sightseeing-- if that was even the word for it. After the pack meeting had finished, he had quietly slipped away into his familiar state of solitude. He knew that he still felt guilt for not having the courage to speak up as he should have had when the blood and snow siren had spoken to him. Directly, precisely, to him in particular. His tongue clicked inside his jug as he pondered just what it was he was actually doing, dismissing the unease entirely, casting it off into an abyss so deep and dark that not even he knew just how deep the bottom surged downward. His russet portals swiveled over grounds that had been soaked in far too much blood. The lads breathing stopped as he continued on, slitting his strangely colored optics. He did not feel that battling one another for power was worth the repurcussions that came afterwards. As he moved along, he exhaled and then continued his regular breathing process. His pistons led him to a different scene altogether now, something that he had not seen but twice before. His heart leaped in his chest at the familiarity of the natural layout, soaring right through his breathers as his pace quickened and NeMO made his way to the side of the cliff. He struggled to make his way upwards-- he struggled because such a feat had not been performed by him in months long past. As he furthered his progress, each step became a regret until he acknowledged that he was not going to make it to the very top anytime soon. He seated himself beside a pine and cast a quick, childish glance over his boney shoulder. A smile teetered onto his lips, tugging them back just a bit before it disappeared and he focused on quieting his heavy breathing. Sloping downwards in the direction he had just come from, the bastard stared vigilantly, as if expecting some kind of divine being to peek from the trunks of the trees. A druid, perhaps. Portals slid shut and the lad was content to bask in the late morning sun. Summer was the time of year that the boy had been born into. It was a wonderful thing, summer. It came so suddenly, and disappeared slowly, as if the earth, too, did not want to lose the precious and gentle warmth that it provided. Unconciously, the slave's neck stretched forwards, towards the rays of light shimmering off the atmosphere. To an onlooker, it might have seemed that he were going to lose his grip and fall-- perhaps take a tumble back down the length that he had put so much effort to climb up. But, just as gravity began to work its ways, the child opened his stargazers and leaned back, away from the warmth. Without another glance over his shoulder, he continued on upwards. Thrice he lost his footing. Thrice he stumbled and fell, talons raking into the terra in persistance to not lose neither faith nor his ground. Thrice his heart leapt into his mouth, attempting to escape his body altogether. And thrice he got back up and pushed forwards, not caring to shake off the soil that now clung to his stark white pelt. When he came to a place where he must leap, he leapt. When he came to a place where he could not get up, he kept travelling around, with neither haste nor urgency. When he came to the top... his limbs burned with a fiery ache. The trouble of getting to the pinnacle was now past him, and even though descending would also be quite the spectacle to see, NeMO was not interested in the matter. His clever orbs slid over the collision between atmosphere and soil, drinking in the sight of it as if it were going to be the last thing he ever did. He moved forward, depleting the space between himself and the edge of the side of the cliff that he was on. Gravel tumbled down when his pads found the very edge. Without a pause in his actions, the squire twitched his audettes forward and inhaled audibly, the crisp air filling his lungs with the scent of what he knew to be his own freedom. No one could tell him that he was not allowed to breathe. Of course, they could fill his head with the tempting idea that he shouldn't be breathing-- and that was something NeMO had heard more than any other saying. So the adolescent was left to himself, thinking about nothing in particular, just times gone by, and speaking nothing, as we cannot be judged by any being, be it soul, mountain, sea, or sky, if we choose to stay silent. || NeMO || teen || male ||  |
Replies:
- w e d o n o t s o w - By SELINE. May 24, 2013 at 11:05:26 PM
winter is coming - By NeMO May 25, 2013 at 03:44:52 PM
w e d o n o t s o w - By SELINE. May 25, 2013 at 07:02:11 PM
winter is coming - By NeMO June 3, 2013 at 06:45:12 PM
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