Post by Takhi on Jun 26, 2009 22:36:27 GMT -5
Cool chills ran up the spine of the wolf as the wind rushed by. Disturbing and eerie was the sound it brought; high pitched howls as if all the wolves that had lost their lives on these very hills were crying out, warning curious wanderers to stay away. Only fools and the overly confident whelps would dare to travel to an extremely dangerous area such as this one. One misstep, one slip, one second of attention deficiency, you would fall; tumble down the rocks that would most certainly take one’s life. And yet, they dared. The Vargs of the land would scramble up the loose boulders, praying to the Gods that their fate would not be sealed and that their spirit would not be destined to roam their place of death forever. The chilling screams of the air’s current continued on, haunting all those who pressed their pads against the dull, lifeless stone. These hills belonged to the ever treacherous terrain of the mountains.
The hot and sickening heat of summer was starting to rise. No longer was the air filled with cool breezes, pleasantries long missed. Now the air was moist, thick, and humid, an unbearable sensation for any creature with heavy fur. But this was only the beginning of what was to soon come. Endless days of flaming sunlight accompanied by scorching temperatures were just around the corner. Down below in the valleys and meadows, this sense was just beginning to take effect. The higher elevation revealed hidden secrets that nature was keeping from the animals. Ah, the memories of relief. The sun may have been the closest here, but the air was comfortable and cooling.
The Varg almost wished winter was back. She would rather have to deal with frozen air than what she was forced to bear with now. The animal worried about the possibility of drought rampaging through the land, not recalling if it ever had before in these territories. Certainly not. Not with the rivers, lakes, swamps, and waterfalls around. Water could not run dry here could it? A pink tongue lolled from the maw of the beast as even now, the wretched warmth began to sting its pelt.
Despite being one who was unaccompanied and dared to travel in the mountains, the fae was not a loner. She actually was apart of the notorious wolf pack, Sarnes. Her name was Takhi. Her pelt was the darkest of ebony with pale scars scattered throughout. Bright blue and green oculars stared out over the lowlands, watching the world pass by. The Herla were present in the valley between the hills. Hinds were gathered with their young fawns, quietly grazing. They vigorously were packing on the pounds, preparing themselves for colder months. They had to be fit to survive, more so the children than the adults. The bucks were no where in sight, separating themselves from the does until autumn. They too were building their strength. Takhi enjoyed watching their lives progress as summer arrived.
Sitting on her haunches, the shadowy predator stared.
The hot and sickening heat of summer was starting to rise. No longer was the air filled with cool breezes, pleasantries long missed. Now the air was moist, thick, and humid, an unbearable sensation for any creature with heavy fur. But this was only the beginning of what was to soon come. Endless days of flaming sunlight accompanied by scorching temperatures were just around the corner. Down below in the valleys and meadows, this sense was just beginning to take effect. The higher elevation revealed hidden secrets that nature was keeping from the animals. Ah, the memories of relief. The sun may have been the closest here, but the air was comfortable and cooling.
The Varg almost wished winter was back. She would rather have to deal with frozen air than what she was forced to bear with now. The animal worried about the possibility of drought rampaging through the land, not recalling if it ever had before in these territories. Certainly not. Not with the rivers, lakes, swamps, and waterfalls around. Water could not run dry here could it? A pink tongue lolled from the maw of the beast as even now, the wretched warmth began to sting its pelt.
Despite being one who was unaccompanied and dared to travel in the mountains, the fae was not a loner. She actually was apart of the notorious wolf pack, Sarnes. Her name was Takhi. Her pelt was the darkest of ebony with pale scars scattered throughout. Bright blue and green oculars stared out over the lowlands, watching the world pass by. The Herla were present in the valley between the hills. Hinds were gathered with their young fawns, quietly grazing. They vigorously were packing on the pounds, preparing themselves for colder months. They had to be fit to survive, more so the children than the adults. The bucks were no where in sight, separating themselves from the does until autumn. They too were building their strength. Takhi enjoyed watching their lives progress as summer arrived.
Sitting on her haunches, the shadowy predator stared.
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