Post by Awiergan on Sept 15, 2010 12:05:53 GMT -5
The pale sphere hung over the moor like a specter amidst the dark curtain of ominous clouds that was the night sky, eerie light waning rapidly from the foreboding swampland as it threatened to be consumed by the endless abyss. Down below the earth was still, neither the chirping of crickets or the deep croaking from frogs to break the ominous silence that had settled upon the marsh known as Sarnes. How long had it been since the dark haven had succumb to the emptiness and quiet that now filled it's borders? Once it had housed some of the most fierce and derranged varg ever to walk Translyvania, now it was little more than a vacant shadow of it's former glory. Barren and hollow. Save for one.
Pale orbs peering through the gloom of the night he moved seamlessly through the murky glade, melting into the shadows like a wraith as he glided from patch to patch of sodden earth. Shoulders rolling smoothly with each step he moved silently but with purpose. Far too long had he been gone from these lands, seperated from the foreign but familiar scents and company of those he called his pack. True he had only been had only dwelt in Sarnes a short time before migrating to greener pastures, but something drew him back to this place. A deep resonant feeling that seemed to gnaw at his core. Persistant. Profound. Pitch pads selecting a perch between a series of gnarled roots the ebony creature stationed itself at the base of a dying oak, black muzzle tilting towards the night sky and cracking to reveal a gleam of ivory teeth as it set forth a haunting melody. After over a year of absence Awiergan had returned.
Pale orbs peering through the gloom of the night he moved seamlessly through the murky glade, melting into the shadows like a wraith as he glided from patch to patch of sodden earth. Shoulders rolling smoothly with each step he moved silently but with purpose. Far too long had he been gone from these lands, seperated from the foreign but familiar scents and company of those he called his pack. True he had only been had only dwelt in Sarnes a short time before migrating to greener pastures, but something drew him back to this place. A deep resonant feeling that seemed to gnaw at his core. Persistant. Profound. Pitch pads selecting a perch between a series of gnarled roots the ebony creature stationed itself at the base of a dying oak, black muzzle tilting towards the night sky and cracking to reveal a gleam of ivory teeth as it set forth a haunting melody. After over a year of absence Awiergan had returned.