Where Life Goes [Open!]
Apr 1, 2016 23:05:14 GMT -5
Post by Gyllbane on Apr 1, 2016 23:05:14 GMT -5
The first seasonably warm day had brought many out of hiding. The advent of the seasons' change was always a special one, and Tiberius had taken it upon himself to spirit his way out of the packlands, and to somewhere a little more... interesting. Heather fields for miles was nice, yes, it was home - but sometimes you just needed some tree in your life.
His ventures led him due east, into the lush woodland now damp with melted snow and echoing with spring birdsong. In truth he stuck out like a sore thumb, a red patch amongst the browns and deep evergreens. If at one point he'd minded, it was long gone now. After all, where was a bright red wolf going to ever blend in?
He came across the small clearing awhile later, lost in his own thoughts; he'd only visited it once before, on a trip planned by his rather apprehensive mother, and it had awed him even then. In the end they'd spent some time beneath its boughs, growing grass soft as fur about them and Peril trying desperately to instill more knowledge of her own power within him.
That's where he went now, to settle himself amongst the huge oak's roots. The sweet memory and the atmosphere of the place had him in a rather good mood, and - almost without thinking - small buds of wildflowers began to spring up around his paws. He noticed after a moment, his surprise only momentary. He'd grown used to the emotion-induced growth, and he smiled wolfishly and began to manipulate them more consciously, the thin stems bending this way and that as he watched, oblivious for the moment to the world about him.
His ventures led him due east, into the lush woodland now damp with melted snow and echoing with spring birdsong. In truth he stuck out like a sore thumb, a red patch amongst the browns and deep evergreens. If at one point he'd minded, it was long gone now. After all, where was a bright red wolf going to ever blend in?
He came across the small clearing awhile later, lost in his own thoughts; he'd only visited it once before, on a trip planned by his rather apprehensive mother, and it had awed him even then. In the end they'd spent some time beneath its boughs, growing grass soft as fur about them and Peril trying desperately to instill more knowledge of her own power within him.
That's where he went now, to settle himself amongst the huge oak's roots. The sweet memory and the atmosphere of the place had him in a rather good mood, and - almost without thinking - small buds of wildflowers began to spring up around his paws. He noticed after a moment, his surprise only momentary. He'd grown used to the emotion-induced growth, and he smiled wolfishly and began to manipulate them more consciously, the thin stems bending this way and that as he watched, oblivious for the moment to the world about him.
