s a b r i e l
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He had his worries and his concerns to dwell on, but he knew it would do him no good to go on this way. He could wish things were different as much as he wanted and nothing would change. Not in the ways that he wished they would. Because it was getting lonely out here without the other gypsies, and he couldn't find a way to let go of this lifestyle. He could pretend, but he didn't like the idea and knew that it still wouldn't last. If he could only change, life would be much more simple for him. To not be bound by the way he was raised, the feeling that he needed to be out here, wandering around without anything truly stationary..

It was tiring, and he was feeling worn. With the pending Winter, Sabriel was uncertain to how things would go. It was difficult to stay warm in the Winter months while alone, and it did look like that was precisely how he would be. A too-thin wolf with difficulty conserving heat. The only thing he had on his side was the speed in which his strange form gave him to hunt with. That upped his chance on taking down prey like the snow hares around here, but it gave him other issues as well. He didn't look normal and sometimes that was difficult in social situations all on it's own. Which was too bad, because he was a social being.

He roamed the fields with a steady calm about himself, only the inner turmoil being a factor here. He did not talk to himself, did not let any of his feelings show as he moved along. A sadness might show in his features, something odd to a creature that was usually a picture of cheer, but perhaps this was getting older and what such a thing did to someone. Sabriel wasn't sure why he was feeling this way so suddenly, but maybe it was the pressure of being alone and not wishing to be without the group he had known years ago. They had vanished, and that was a hard pill to swallow. To be stuck in this endless loop.

At least a sound caught his attention, and he paused for a moment to listen further to ensure what he was hearing was something to investigate. Sometimes the wrong kind of wolf lurked within Moladion, and Sabriel tried to steer clear of them. This did not sound like any of that, more like distress. So he ventured forth to find out what was going on, only to spot a female not many paces away from him some minutes later. She had been gotten by a porcupine, it looked like. Quills were sticking out of her fur in some spots. Sabriel halted, assessing the damage. "Would you like some help getting out the quills, miss?" He asked lightly, not wanting to intrude if unwanted.


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male -- eleven -- mate to none -- soulbound to anemone -- gypsy