Post by Crimson on Jan 27, 2014 0:22:52 GMT
((ooc: thread intended for Ren only.))
Vince gazed out into the gloom, tail thumping slowly on the floorboards next to him. It wasn't a wag, or a happy gesture in the slightest; it was a sign of deep thought. It was just one strange and quirky habit of his that he took very seriously to keeping quiet about. The massive white wolf's icy blue gaze was settled on a strange, shiny black box dangling from a line strung across the gap between the hotel and the building across the street. There were three glass circles placed on front of it, and one of them was flickering bright yellow, like a miniature sun pressed flat and plastered to the front of the thing. It intrigued him.
Really, how was he supposed to know that it was a stoplight?
This canine was a creature of the wild, not a master of the streets. He was used to soft grass under his paws and leaves caressing his fur, starry skies and shimmering streams that were always singing.
Not hard pavement that cracked his pawpads and air that smelled like cat crap.
Vince didn't belong here, and he knew it. But they- he and Cara- had no other choice. It was either seek out a pack in the city or die alone in the forest. He'd decided on the latter until he saw her watery eyes, her drooping tail, and all resolve drained out of him. They'd arrived only a sunrise ago and found the abandoned hotel; to them, one terrified and the other hardly conscious from blood loss, the easy shelter was like heaven on earth. They'd avoided the scents of other dogs in the rooms, of course, and after a short scan of the floors, Vince had decided that it'd be safest for them to sleep in the lobby behind the counter.
The massive white wolf sighed and sat up in the front doorway, wincing as his right foreleg brushed up against the door frame (he hardly fit in it completely). It left a smear of crimson. His entire leg was matted with dried blood, and his fur wasn't as neatly groomed as usual, but there was no missing the sheer power in his movements and the finer shape of his face. No amount of exhaustion could cover up the fact that this wolf, however exhausted and worried he was (she should have been back by now, right?), he was very, sensually attractive. Vince was just thinking about leaving to look for his sister when the fresh scent of dog happened upon his nostrils, and his entire body stiffened, muscles tense, ready to spring. His tail stopped thumping. Snow fell on his nose, and he thought about shaking his head in irritation, but such a movement might seem aggressive, and until he knew exactly who he was to encounter, he didn't want to make an intimidating impression.
Little did he realize that a hungry, male white wolf who looked like he was built to stop trains and with blood coating one of his front legs was... just slightly intimidating.
"Who's out there?" he called, a growl vibrating in his throat.
Vince gazed out into the gloom, tail thumping slowly on the floorboards next to him. It wasn't a wag, or a happy gesture in the slightest; it was a sign of deep thought. It was just one strange and quirky habit of his that he took very seriously to keeping quiet about. The massive white wolf's icy blue gaze was settled on a strange, shiny black box dangling from a line strung across the gap between the hotel and the building across the street. There were three glass circles placed on front of it, and one of them was flickering bright yellow, like a miniature sun pressed flat and plastered to the front of the thing. It intrigued him.
Really, how was he supposed to know that it was a stoplight?
This canine was a creature of the wild, not a master of the streets. He was used to soft grass under his paws and leaves caressing his fur, starry skies and shimmering streams that were always singing.
Not hard pavement that cracked his pawpads and air that smelled like cat crap.
Vince didn't belong here, and he knew it. But they- he and Cara- had no other choice. It was either seek out a pack in the city or die alone in the forest. He'd decided on the latter until he saw her watery eyes, her drooping tail, and all resolve drained out of him. They'd arrived only a sunrise ago and found the abandoned hotel; to them, one terrified and the other hardly conscious from blood loss, the easy shelter was like heaven on earth. They'd avoided the scents of other dogs in the rooms, of course, and after a short scan of the floors, Vince had decided that it'd be safest for them to sleep in the lobby behind the counter.
The massive white wolf sighed and sat up in the front doorway, wincing as his right foreleg brushed up against the door frame (he hardly fit in it completely). It left a smear of crimson. His entire leg was matted with dried blood, and his fur wasn't as neatly groomed as usual, but there was no missing the sheer power in his movements and the finer shape of his face. No amount of exhaustion could cover up the fact that this wolf, however exhausted and worried he was (she should have been back by now, right?), he was very, sensually attractive. Vince was just thinking about leaving to look for his sister when the fresh scent of dog happened upon his nostrils, and his entire body stiffened, muscles tense, ready to spring. His tail stopped thumping. Snow fell on his nose, and he thought about shaking his head in irritation, but such a movement might seem aggressive, and until he knew exactly who he was to encounter, he didn't want to make an intimidating impression.
Little did he realize that a hungry, male white wolf who looked like he was built to stop trains and with blood coating one of his front legs was... just slightly intimidating.
"Who's out there?" he called, a growl vibrating in his throat.
