Post by freki on Apr 21, 2009 14:41:11 GMT -5
The current of the river made a soothing sound, lulling even the toughest of animals into a seemingly endless trance. The ferocity of the pounding current would make anybody willing to cross it daunted, yet this lay no concern for one Varg. His black pelt basked by the glow from the Sun God Fenris, and his ebon maw was raised slightly into the fresh cool breeze, scenting for any trouble nearby on the opposite bank.
His tread spoke of tiredness, yet he never faltered, and he trudged on through thick grass, damp from the morning's Spring shower, and wearily came up to the edge of the river. There was still bits of ice in the river from the harsh coldness of Winter, but now Spring was taking hold, and new life was being born.
Freki felt alive, and much more mature and responsible now that he was getting past being a mere cub. He had travelled more than any other Varg cub, met many friends and foes, and worst of all, lost his family in a night of deep despair, torment and blood and gore. His golden eyes were full of a great sadness and loss as he recalled in great detail the still and lifeless bodies of his bold father, killed by a worthless Balkar scum. He cringed as he remembered looking into his father's life less eyes, seeming to gaze right into his broken soul. He howled bitterly, clawing at the grass, a tear welling up in his eyes. A surge of anger took hold in him, filling him with an odd passion to live in memory of his family, but not ruin his life by mourning them. No, he would simply live life to the full, and he knew that somewhere, if his sister was alive, she would be doing the same thing too.
He breathed in, his chest heaving in and out, before summoning the energy to wade into the river, which came up to his belly, when a sudden surge from the river current threw him off balance and he tumbled head first into the water. He snarled in fright, unaware of what to do, and barked in fright as he was pulled down stream by the swiftness and strength of the water. He fought violently to surface, breaking the water with his front paws and his sodden black head. He gasped, let out a howl, then struggled to battle out of the dangerous river.
His tread spoke of tiredness, yet he never faltered, and he trudged on through thick grass, damp from the morning's Spring shower, and wearily came up to the edge of the river. There was still bits of ice in the river from the harsh coldness of Winter, but now Spring was taking hold, and new life was being born.
Freki felt alive, and much more mature and responsible now that he was getting past being a mere cub. He had travelled more than any other Varg cub, met many friends and foes, and worst of all, lost his family in a night of deep despair, torment and blood and gore. His golden eyes were full of a great sadness and loss as he recalled in great detail the still and lifeless bodies of his bold father, killed by a worthless Balkar scum. He cringed as he remembered looking into his father's life less eyes, seeming to gaze right into his broken soul. He howled bitterly, clawing at the grass, a tear welling up in his eyes. A surge of anger took hold in him, filling him with an odd passion to live in memory of his family, but not ruin his life by mourning them. No, he would simply live life to the full, and he knew that somewhere, if his sister was alive, she would be doing the same thing too.
He breathed in, his chest heaving in and out, before summoning the energy to wade into the river, which came up to his belly, when a sudden surge from the river current threw him off balance and he tumbled head first into the water. He snarled in fright, unaware of what to do, and barked in fright as he was pulled down stream by the swiftness and strength of the water. He fought violently to surface, breaking the water with his front paws and his sodden black head. He gasped, let out a howl, then struggled to battle out of the dangerous river.