I KNOW I SHOULDN"T BE MAKING MORE BUT WHAT THE HECK


My name is Noah

I'm small, a pup, born not to long ago as a male.

My fur is plain, smoky grey with a little bit of black here and there. My eyes are dark and stormy but there's also some blue. I think I'll be big one day... and strong too.

I really don't like fighting; it makes me brooding and cold... but still, sometimes I just can't help it, my temper rises so fast and I think sometimes I more afraid of getting hurt then of hurting you - I forget that you can be hurt, that every once and a while you lay something so delicate in my paws and I don't really know how to protect it.

Someday I might just love you with all that I am. Maybe then I will value you over me and hurting myself will be easier than ever putting you in danger. Maybe I'll fight for you and give you everything I have just so that I can be sure you are safe. Unfortunately, although I will never stop trying my demons will always win - this I'll know so I will keep you from what's inside, swear that I don't know love even if I do. I'll be distant and measured... always in control because one day my worst fear will be that you'll see me inside out and I'll loose what I swear I don't need.

When you first meet me, I'll have come from somewhere very cold. My young body will already be strong and tough from the normal hardship of the north. I won't be used to affection and camaraderie. You see, I will be used to following orders and getting the job done. My pack will have left me behind, as a perfect specimen, to spread our breed and mindset.