Sshhh... Do you hear that sound? He growls into your ear.

Life had become so boring as of late. Nothing exciting had happened in the brute’s life in he didn’t even know how long. All he knew was how incredibly bored he was, and it was driving him insane. There was a time where he was loving life and truly living. But that seemed so long ago now. And really it had been years since he had anything fun or exciting happen. The brute had tried to go out and find excitement, but had come up short time and time again. There had been nothing that he could find that instilled even a spark of true interest. For a place that was rumored to be filled with excitement, Padfoot had not found any in a long time. But he did like to dwell on the memories of the fun he had had. There had been a time when he was with two females in the span of a mere weeks, and both would have been destined to bear his young had they not died before giving birth. Some would say that he should be heartbroken, but he was not. He had never truly been in love before, and these two females were no different. One he had slept with out of pity, another out of lust.

The first had found him crying and whimpering, begging for him to help her forget her sorrows. The male new no better way to do that than with sex, so he had given her just that. Padfoot had done what she wanted, had given her a night of pleasure rather than sorrow. And when he later found out she was pregnant with his young, he was shocked. He had no desire to be a father, especially with someone that was not the type of female he would actually be interested in. The worst part was that he felt relief when he discovered she had died before the pups could be born. One obstacle eliminated. The other femme had been different. She had been feisty and spunky, exactly his type. They were a pair that could have been more than one night of fun and pleasure. But they were not destined for more. For a moment it looked like they were when she too was carrying his young. It seemed that the male was meant to be a father with two females bearing his children out there. But she too had not survived long enough to give birth, and once again he was a lone wolf. He had always been a lone wolf, and thought that he always would be. The second female’s death touched him a bit, but not enough to change his life. Padfoot moved on quickly from her death, just looking for the next femme to come his way.

But that was where everything had stopped in his life. Normally the male had no trouble finding a female to keep his attention, whether for just one night or for a short period of time. But this time he couldn’t seem to find anyone that wanted to spend time with him. The womanizer was in a funk, and he didn’t know how to get out of it. After some time, it grew to annoy him. What was wrong with him now? He knew that his appearance had not changed, he was still a fantastically handsome brute. And yet there was not one femme interested in speaking with him. As rude and uncaring as he could be, he would never do something against another’s will. And so he had not laid with another in longer than he could remember. Was this what life was like for most wolves? Wolves that were not him? He couldn’t imagine continuing going on life like this. It was so boring. Normally he didn’t care that if he was alone or what others thought of him. But now he just wanted some attention, from anyone or anything. The male continuing padding through the forest day after day. Physically alive, but barely mentally there. He was starving for adventure and excitement.

Grey orbs blinked in the sunlight, trying to focus in on where his paws had taken him this time around. He saw that the lake was before him, but he was up on a ledge. There were some wolves a bit away, down below. Normally he might consider going down to try and mingle, but with how unsuccessful he had been as of late, he remained where he was. Alone and above the rest. With a sigh the male laid down in the grass, crossing his paws and laying his head down. He could still see some of the strangers, and he watched them like a television show. Making up stories for them, stories where he was involved and wasn’t stuck in this mental rut.

That's the sound of your death. His claws scrape against stone.

Picture and table credit to Alesana <3