Post by Romke on Oct 6, 2005 19:30:43 GMT -5
Romke. The untold fate. The brute was at the age of 5 years, battle worn from his many travels. Romke, his dubbance. His pink tongue hung limply from his mouth as his paws were placed forward, in steady pace with his heartbeat. His ears were large, larger then a normal wolves. That explained his magnificent hearing, not the best, but very keen. Romke. He hadn’t spoken his name in so long. He hadn’t spoken anything in so long. For Romke was a mute. The scar on his rugged neck, a painful memory of a battle for justice. The 5-year-old brute, had no one. Nothing to call home, nothing to call family, and no one to call his lover. He blinked his deep blue eyes, the reflection of a sapphire.
His tassel swung from side to side as he slowly made his way across a mountain range, picking the easiest path to travel on. His pelt was gray, plain gray. He was a timber wolf, born and breed free with no human interaction. His fur was rugged around his neck and belly, smoothing out around his muzzle and ears. His form was muscular, and his claws were still sharp. He sighed as he trotted on ward, on the lookout for pack lands, some place he could settle down and start a new. Of course, he was a mute so it would be difficult, but he had to take a chance. This neutral was more on the dark side then the light, making his choice easier if the time came forward for him to choose. He paused and settled upon his haunches, raising his head to the heavens. As his jaw opened, a soul-searching howl erupted into the sky. The howl echoed throughout the lands even as the brute closed his jaw. He only had one thought. Would his howl be answered?
ooc: Um, yes, this is it =^^=
His tassel swung from side to side as he slowly made his way across a mountain range, picking the easiest path to travel on. His pelt was gray, plain gray. He was a timber wolf, born and breed free with no human interaction. His fur was rugged around his neck and belly, smoothing out around his muzzle and ears. His form was muscular, and his claws were still sharp. He sighed as he trotted on ward, on the lookout for pack lands, some place he could settle down and start a new. Of course, he was a mute so it would be difficult, but he had to take a chance. This neutral was more on the dark side then the light, making his choice easier if the time came forward for him to choose. He paused and settled upon his haunches, raising his head to the heavens. As his jaw opened, a soul-searching howl erupted into the sky. The howl echoed throughout the lands even as the brute closed his jaw. He only had one thought. Would his howl be answered?
ooc: Um, yes, this is it =^^=
Crim//Dark
Tsark//Neutral 
Larken//Light