<font face=perpetua color=2b1f37 size=2>EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH SURELY DIES [Any]</font>

I was young when I learned just how fragile life can be
I lost friends of mine
I guess it wasn't my time
Timing is everything

It was only fitting that his return coincided with the cold season. After all, his first time stepping foot into Moladion had been during one of the harshest winters he had ever seen. This season was not so different, but Asa was.

The boy had grown into an adult, almost in the blink of an eye. He had left the lands of Old Moladion before the cataclysm, had escaped with his life by the skin of his teeth. As was to be expected from the gold and obsidian wolf. Death had followed him like a dark omen ever since he had first been rescued from her cold grip by the silver wretch. He had thwarted her every time.

And so the lithe creature enters the Enocra Woodland. It was unsettling how familiar yet foreign this place seemed. This �new� Moladion. Nothing was the same. Not Amaia Creek where he had first been discovered by his pseudo-parents. Not Indarus Thicket where he and Fiera had committed their crimes. And most certainly not the pack lands, though he had not yet explored those to any large degree, simply passed by them with a twitching nose looking for a familiar scent. Finding none he had settled for the common grounds for the moment.

After all, choosing a pack was no small matter. He had not felt a true loyalty to anyone since the fall of Hyperion from the throne of Mirovis. He wasn�t sure he ever would. Maybe he was just suited to the life of a vagrant. After all, the darkness that had invaded his soul was perhaps not a desirable quality in a pack.

The tall golden male leaps agilely over a felled tree, landing whisper-quiet on the needle padded forest floor, golden eyes expertly catching sight of a fat rabbit beneath a nearby pine. Instinctively he crouches and slinks forward like the predator he was, but his meal was quickly scared away by the sound of another creature crashing through the underbrush.

Asa turns his disdainful gaze in the direction of the newcomer, his teeth bared and a low growl rumbling in his throat. His travels had been long and he was hungry. God help whoever just scared away his dinner.

A S A
(āy�sŭh)

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