{dark.days} IP: 89.242.183.81 Posted on September 20, 2013 at 06:40:01 PM by Skulduggery
The red, black and white wolf had been away for some time, wandering in the lands beyond the mountain; things had changed, he could see while he was away. Packs had changed, the balance of power had shifted. He couldn't say he was all that bothered. Life went on, with or without him, and he'd always been an outsider, even here.
The riverside was quiet, and sunny in a chilled, autumn kind of way. He settled down in the grass, and stretched his limbs wearily; they were black, as if he'd walked through ink, against his white belly and scarlet back. He was thinner than he had been when last he was here, and infinitely wearier.
Skulduggery wondered what had happened to the handful of Mountain residents he'd talked to in the past. He didn't remember names, but he remembered faces, mostly. An odd lot for a the most part, but they were alright, as far as he could remember.
He put his head on his paws, and, lost in his own thoughts, watched the river drift absently by. Replies: There have been no replies.
