shivershade
Your Strength is just an Accident Owed to the Weakness of Others
God, if there was one thing he hated worse than rotten meat it was waking up to a cold ass day. Even with his eyes pinched closed and his massive body wrapped around on itself Shivershade could feel the press of the wintry air. Fall they said, but hell it felt like winter at nights. What was the point in having 'transition' times when they lasted for maybe a week? Being his size it wasn't like Shade was ever that cold but he certainly liked to bitch about the weather, at least in his head, and as his body began to waken so did his hateful thoughts on the subject. The overlong thistles of his tail went haywire as he huffed into the mass, extracting his narrow muzzle from it with a low growl of frustration. Sleep was a precious thing and it seemed to come ever more elusive to him.
The makeshift den he was in had to be at least twenty degrees warmer than the outside air yet the chill of winter was never far away. For a while he lays in this abandoned den with his head on his paws and mind trying to occupy itself with various thoughts or grumblings. When the sky begins to lighten to a dull gray, the same monotonous color that seemed prominent in the fall and winter months, he finally lifted himself up and stretched. Another growl bursts from his maw as the crown of his head smacks into the earthen ceiling before he hunches over and crawls out of the den, the frigid morning air a smack in the face.
Where did the sun go during these winter months? Shivershade often bemoaned that fact, cursed it, but made do anyways. It wasn't as if he had the power to demand it's appearance or to hurry time. If only he had another warm body with which to wile away the winter, a distraction to draw his mind from the cold. The idea of such a body, warm and willing, sees a rakish grin on his maw before his chocolate eyes - with yellow rings around the edges of his iris - scan the area and catch sight of a red body in the brush.
There is a dominant gene to Shivershade that has become almost outwardly magnified by his enormous size and his tail rises now, fur standing on end as he catches the scent of a wayward male. Not quite the warm body he had been imagining, but then again at least the male might be a distraction.
Was the male lurking around Shivershade's den in hopes of a free meal? Sorry buddy, he was never one to share. "Is there a reason you are lingering?" His voice is deep and husky, reverberating into the woods while his eyes narrow, assuming that the male is after something even if his assumptions are wrong.
(male) (six) (none)
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