| Nietzsche
It had been a quiet few seasons here, although the winter had been harsh it seemed as though spring had brought the land back to life with a profuse diligence. Nietzsche supposed that, no matter what, the creatures of this world would survive. Nature had its balance. Nighttime, though, for a loner like himself had been thrown into chaos; beasts that seemed to emerge from the shadows themselves sought to terrorize the populace of this land. He had, thus far, avoided any encounter with them directly, but half-eaten carcasses wrought with feline or ursidaen scent were common. Some, namely the carcasses of his kind, caused him to wrinkle his nose. It was certainly not a fate that he would wish on another but yet, these beasts needed to survive as well.
Nietzsche had never been a creature of habit, though, far preferring the life of a wanderer as opposed to settling in a pack. There was far more to see, to understand when he did not feel constrained by petty hierarchies but he supposed it might do him good to focus his studies in a more controlled environment. Those who settled in packs, despite common opinion, could be just as deep and dark as a vagabond. They too had an interesting perspective on the world, having been imbued so thoroughly with the idea of pack structure that even in a life separate from leaders and subordinates they tended to apply a similar dichotomy.
It was good, he thought, to think and walk- it stimulated his mind and the mechanical action of moving his legs served to give a rhythm to his thoughts. What was not so good, however, was that he tended to ignore his surroundings- and the loud sound of a twig snapping and the subsequent rush and scuffle. Nietzsche stopped in his tracks, a bit bewildered himself as the female turned to face him. She was tall, hues of reds and blacks and whites covering her pelt, eyes rimmed like a raccoon. His ears perked and he tilted his head slightly as was customary for him to do as a curious being. He supposed an apology was in order, as the thick scent of rabbit in the air signified that his misplaced step may have just cost her a meal.
"My... eh, apologies, Fräulein." He dipped his head only slightly, his gaze quickly returning to the other. Nietzsche could tell little from her expression, she did not seem angry but rather blank- her fur a bit ruffled but he supposed that could be attributed to several different things. "Did my clumsiness.. em.. squander your meal? I was thinking, and I was not paying attention to where I was going. I suppose, eh, the rabbit... he is feeling lucky today." He gave her a small, half-amused smile. Pleasantries had never quite been important to him.
Egoism Is The Very Essence Of A Noble Soul
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