Post by Chalos Autumn on Jul 30, 2008 1:32:28 GMT -5
[Heya Ge-Rad. This thread is open to all of you, but I'd prefer it if Draeg posts as soon as he can. If any of you are wondering, he knew this thread was coming. <3]
It was hellish midsummer in Transylvania, and on perfect schedule with the season, the days were continually hot and unpleasant, the desire to travel far from shade low, and, in some areas, the water scarce. Unfortunately, Deor was such an area, the densely wooded territory having taken on a parched and cracked appearance as of late. The streams had dried to dust, the grass was crisp underfoot, and even the trees seemed to suffer during the unfortunate spell. Luckily, the pack could drink from a small freshwater spring at the far back of the pack dens, but it too was diminishing - they wouldn't all be able to quench their thirsts until the drought had ended if all were to continue using the spring. And so the largest of the pack, the enormous Deorian Dragga, concerned for the well-being of his members, left his territory with the promise that he would return with rain at his heels. The poor alpha believed perhaps he was being punished for staying so long behind his own borders, hiding from neighbouring packs... Indeed, the Gods must have been quite angry with him, for as soon as he set out to rebuild alliances with Ge-Rad, Deor was granted a quick drizzle.
Chalos leapt over Ge-Rad's border, his strength suddenly feeling renewed as the scent of the foreign pack reached his nostrils. The oversized varg emit a roaring howl, though his throat was terribly dry, causing the sound to grow rough and grainy as it neared its end. He called for the alpha(s), whoever they may be - sadly, he knew not whether Draeg still led or whether the pack's ranks had changed since he'd met the amber alpha so long ago. Those who approached would set their sights upon one of the largest wolves in Transylvania, an intimidating figure to say the least. Luckily, his posture was friendly, though dominant; it was more than easy to assume he was a Dragga.
However, the autumn behemoth was thin, that much was obvious. His hips jut sharply from his body, seen even through his thick pelt, which served only as a terrible curse to suffer with during the summer months. Even his ribs showed slightly, ripples on both sides of his body and sad displays of the sacrifice he'd made for his pack - such a large wolf would have taken much of the water left in the drying spring. Panting heavily in hopes of relieving himself of the heat his damnable mostly-black pelt gathered, Chalos slumped in exhaustion, waiting as patiently as he could for an answer from Ge-Rad.
It was hellish midsummer in Transylvania, and on perfect schedule with the season, the days were continually hot and unpleasant, the desire to travel far from shade low, and, in some areas, the water scarce. Unfortunately, Deor was such an area, the densely wooded territory having taken on a parched and cracked appearance as of late. The streams had dried to dust, the grass was crisp underfoot, and even the trees seemed to suffer during the unfortunate spell. Luckily, the pack could drink from a small freshwater spring at the far back of the pack dens, but it too was diminishing - they wouldn't all be able to quench their thirsts until the drought had ended if all were to continue using the spring. And so the largest of the pack, the enormous Deorian Dragga, concerned for the well-being of his members, left his territory with the promise that he would return with rain at his heels. The poor alpha believed perhaps he was being punished for staying so long behind his own borders, hiding from neighbouring packs... Indeed, the Gods must have been quite angry with him, for as soon as he set out to rebuild alliances with Ge-Rad, Deor was granted a quick drizzle.
Chalos leapt over Ge-Rad's border, his strength suddenly feeling renewed as the scent of the foreign pack reached his nostrils. The oversized varg emit a roaring howl, though his throat was terribly dry, causing the sound to grow rough and grainy as it neared its end. He called for the alpha(s), whoever they may be - sadly, he knew not whether Draeg still led or whether the pack's ranks had changed since he'd met the amber alpha so long ago. Those who approached would set their sights upon one of the largest wolves in Transylvania, an intimidating figure to say the least. Luckily, his posture was friendly, though dominant; it was more than easy to assume he was a Dragga.
However, the autumn behemoth was thin, that much was obvious. His hips jut sharply from his body, seen even through his thick pelt, which served only as a terrible curse to suffer with during the summer months. Even his ribs showed slightly, ripples on both sides of his body and sad displays of the sacrifice he'd made for his pack - such a large wolf would have taken much of the water left in the drying spring. Panting heavily in hopes of relieving himself of the heat his damnable mostly-black pelt gathered, Chalos slumped in exhaustion, waiting as patiently as he could for an answer from Ge-Rad.