At Leisure Lake the sun is always shining and only a few stray clouds roam the open sky; paradise is the one word that really describes it. This beautiful lake is clean and refreshing, the very best place to swim and fish. Pups are known to play here while older wolves watch at the side, engaged in their own activities.
IP: 96.255.23.251
Posted on July 19, 2014 at 02:28:14 PM by i v e v
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As the sun slid far past it's zenith, treading further and further towards the horizon, a cool blanket swept like a cape behind the fiery ball. Its glow wavered and faded, but the glint never left Nidgarr's oval orbs as he turned his face from the light and stepped off the rock. Nothing would get in the black brute's jaunty mood, displayed openly by his swinging banner and light step as he processed down the pebble-strewn hill towards the forest. The steric trunks of Blossom Forest were rippling with the long shadows of the falling evening, casting delightfully swirling leaf patterns onto the floor. Nidgarr was tempted to stop and expend his energy pouncing and tearing at the floor with his nails, trying to pin those dark splotches who seemed to slip just outside his grasp. His exuberant attitude had much to owe to the male's journey. Born and raised in the fjords and rocky islands along the coast, Nidgarr's pack was only a small part of a larger network of wolf families, who all shared a similar ancestry, shrouded in lore. The only thing that bound this vast population who claimed kin to their region was a strong sense of culture. The white-chested prince had been born as an omen due to his appearance. His unseemly exit from the clan was seen as a prophecy. But he hadn't grown up sheltered, and the animosity that grow towards him had been present from the very first day of his life. Haven walked a great deal without the enrichment of good food made the cobalt creature a rather ragged bag of bones. His usually sleek fur, akin to an otter's, was his pride and joy as he laid for hours in the shade, grooming it. The crescent necktie he wore was subject to special attention; the white fur had always been in it's best condition. But since he had started out on his own, the lupin's coat became a collection for all sorts of natural refuse- twigs, dust, leaves.. all caught in some fold of his fur or between his toes. The only time he would clean himself was during the frequent crossings of water, which he enjoyed having been raised on an island. The mindless meandering Nidgarr took through the forest was only guided by his nose towards the moist aroma of water. As he neared it, the thickening of vegetation lessened and opened into a wide bank of sandstone and tough grass. The glimmer of water in the hazy glow of the sun was just beyond. The grin grew on his charcoal lips, but before he could step past the trees, something moved in the shadows. Nidgarr turned his skull to the left, his curious perplexion turning to one of sly impishness that narrowed the slim predator's eyes. A male had similar intentions to Nidgarr, finding refuge in the cool air of the lake under the shade of a cedar. The male was slightly bigger, with a rough coat of black. But unlike Nidgarr's, the stranger had the burnt undercoat of ochre, instead of blue, that made him seem as if he was a smoldering piece of coal that was ready to blaze with the smallest piece of tinder. That fire was already burning in the brute's pools, which, even in the shade, were glowing with heat brighter than the evening sun. Nidgarr slunk closer, his shoulder blades rolling under the thin skin along his back. The naval-tinted wolf hadn't had his taste for troublemaking exercised in a long time, and this solitary wolf exuded the right amount of ambivalence. It would be fun to push this male and see how quickly the dangerous fire within his eyes would spread. With that same grin, Nidgarr focused his attentions onto the blackened brute's pupils. So, is this what wolves do for fun around here? ❄ i v e v ❆ |
Replies:
- spark a fire - By EMBER July 24, 2014 at 08:05:23 PM
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