Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.
A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.
IP: 168.103.248.45
Posted on August 5, 2015 at 08:43:09 PM by ROMULUS
Bored. He didn’t want to head back to Malignant. The reason for such happened to be a pupetteer who thought she was the hottest shit around. If Romulus had still had eyes, they would have rolled practically into the back of his head. That girl was something else. A spitfire he would’ve pursued earlier in life. Perhaps he and her would’ve had flings back when he was a teenager. Romulus tilted his head, entertaining the idea of sexual interaction with the girl. Definitely would be a new experience. But the thought of embracing another woman had his heart shutting doors of iron immediately. No. Well… the kalak smirked without humor. He supposed so long as he didn’t fall in love, interactions with females could be allowed. But the thought still made him want to puke. He’d promised. Promised that he would take Eriel seriously. But did that promise still hold true when he was exiled from his place of birth and no longer knowledgable of whether or not Eriel was even alive? This train of thought made his heart sink. He didn’t want to. He didn’t even want to be himself anymore. Not that he’d wanted to be “Romulus” in the first place. It wasn’t the name. It was his breeding. It was his history. It was him. He wanted to be a regular varg. One that didn’t tower above others. Romulus flicked his plumage. He was on his way back to Malignant after having wasted the day away at the lake with some woman who approached him for god knows what reason. The soil beneath him now was supple… but he could almost feel the death coming to the flowers like a plague. Fall was approaching quietly and slowly, ready to pounce on its weakened prey. These blossoms wouldn’t last for much longer. Not that Romulus cared. The psycho couldn’t see them anyway so it didn’t particularly hold his interest… but for some reason his heartstrings still decided to feel sour about it. A year would’ve passed since Sophie’s untimely death this winter. And that meant that the world had been able to survive without such a gentle soul in its midst. How cruel and foul. No. He wouldn’t have minded if a terrifying asteroid decided to plant itself right on the top of blossom. Or if a true plague itself soaked its way into everyones lungs, dying them yellow and black with sickness. He wouldn’t have minded dying this year. Not knowing where Eriel was or if she too was a part of the earth now…. Well that made the brujo even less willed to move his feet. So he stopped and breathed in and out multiple times. Romulus was breaking. His time was ticking away through the neck of the hour glass. If someone didn’t add sand to that timer… he wasn’t going to make it through this winter either. A weak willed wolf is the one that dies first. …  |
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