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Post by enigma on Dec 3, 2006 16:38:49 GMT -5
His footsteps were slow and sluggish. Everything he had worked for in the past was now gone. Obliterated. Outcast gave a long sigh and looked up at the grey skys. It looked like rain or snow was about to fall. A small nagging thought in his head told him that he should find somewhere to shelter. Outcast slowly obeyed and dragged himself along looking for some small outcrop of stone or some trees to shelter under. Seeing nothing around, he sat down on the hard packed earth to comtemplate what to do next.
Giving another sigh, he let his eyelids drop and allowed his body ease down into a laying position. He was in easy view of any thing, and unsheltered when it slowly started to rain. Looking up to the skys he let out a long lonely howl and settle down again.
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Post by blackridge on Dec 8, 2006 3:06:42 GMT -5
Black Ridge made his way across the well trodden path. His dark pwas hitting the ground with a rythmic thump. A light drizzle of rain was falling his black and grey fur gradually getting damp. The fur alongb the ridge of his back that stood different to the rest of his fur. looked spiked and matted.
Red orbs scanned the area around him as he walked. He noted the trees and the shrubs all around, every rock, boulder and crevis. There hidden from the rain, was another wolf. Black Ridge whined a hello. He stepped forward not knowing what to expect from the stranger.
"Hi there." Black ridge said, his voice a low plesant sound. "Are you travelling alone?" Black Ridge wwas in need of company, eversince he left his family he has been craving companionship. The black hunk of fur layed down on the wet yet hard earth. He rest his large head on his front paws and looked at the other wolf with big red eyes. " My name's Black Ridge but you can call me Blak." He said trying to get the other to speak.
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Post by Firedance on Dec 26, 2006 12:02:10 GMT -5
Unbeknownst to them, they were not alone. A couple of hundred metres off the leafy path, in what he hoped was a forest, Charlie crouched intensely behind a tree, his entire being focussed on the wolves that had, by chance, crossed his path. He had hoped that such an encounter would not take place, not before he could get a feel for this place anyway. The light wind buffed his scraggy sable coat, bringing a wealth of smells to Charlie's black nostrils. At least these creatures were wolves; he could smell it on them. The lean, middle-aged wolf willed himself to stop breathing, just so he could really take in what these wolves were about. From his past experiences, dogs had often been frightened of people like him, whereas a wolf would understand him more. He hoped.
Charlie's world had become reduced to the voices coming from down on the path. He cursed the rain for blocking his 'view'- when you couldn't see, even small sounds like this were a nuisance. The wolves below didn't sound hostile. But you can never be too careful. Charlie's past had rendered him very unwilling to trust a stranger, especially one in an unknown land. But what choice did he have?
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