Post by Chalos Autumn on Oct 31, 2008 7:28:16 GMT -5
[Sh*tty opening, but I'm in a hurry before class. I may fix it to make it not as scattered later, but go ahead and reply to it anyway - the "fix" will probably contain the same information. 
]
As Autumn grew ripe, the trees' leaves began to wither and die, but not without revealing their annual surprise; for just a few crisp weeks, Transylvania was painted a grand, warm spectrum, the dying leaves ranging from bright yellows to fiery oranges to deep, bloodied maroons. Nearly a month and a half ago, Deor's Dragga had traveled far from his territory, taking refuge in Ge-Rad in order to help Deor conserve water during the horrid late-summer drought which for nearly two weeks. With wide eyes, he realised simply by the state of the season how much time had passed - certainly, Deor was not at all how he remembered it. The feelings of change rather excited the onyx alpha and as a biting little draft played his thickening pelt, he raised both head and tail, releasing an impressive howl, deep and friendly (and, at long last, healthy!). At long last, he was home.
Not wanting to waste time, Chalos made his way towards the heart of the territory. He began at a gentle and rather comfortable trot, though he began to grow impatient and he soon found himself at a dead gallop, tongue lolling. Paws pounded the leaf-strewn earth furiously, his massive body diving between trees and leaping joyously over brook, log, and stream.
Presently, he heard a small rustle (even through the loud thudding of his sizeable feet) and the enormous male's ears swiveled, head following the sound whilst striking emerald eyes searched for the sound's host. Halting, the alpha stood stock-still, patient - he hoped to greet a fellow packmember. Ears listening intently, the rust-and-ebony lupine emit a small "whoof," shifting as he awaited response from the mystery being.
]As Autumn grew ripe, the trees' leaves began to wither and die, but not without revealing their annual surprise; for just a few crisp weeks, Transylvania was painted a grand, warm spectrum, the dying leaves ranging from bright yellows to fiery oranges to deep, bloodied maroons. Nearly a month and a half ago, Deor's Dragga had traveled far from his territory, taking refuge in Ge-Rad in order to help Deor conserve water during the horrid late-summer drought which for nearly two weeks. With wide eyes, he realised simply by the state of the season how much time had passed - certainly, Deor was not at all how he remembered it. The feelings of change rather excited the onyx alpha and as a biting little draft played his thickening pelt, he raised both head and tail, releasing an impressive howl, deep and friendly (and, at long last, healthy!). At long last, he was home.
Not wanting to waste time, Chalos made his way towards the heart of the territory. He began at a gentle and rather comfortable trot, though he began to grow impatient and he soon found himself at a dead gallop, tongue lolling. Paws pounded the leaf-strewn earth furiously, his massive body diving between trees and leaping joyously over brook, log, and stream.
Presently, he heard a small rustle (even through the loud thudding of his sizeable feet) and the enormous male's ears swiveled, head following the sound whilst striking emerald eyes searched for the sound's host. Halting, the alpha stood stock-still, patient - he hoped to greet a fellow packmember. Ears listening intently, the rust-and-ebony lupine emit a small "whoof," shifting as he awaited response from the mystery being.
