05-10-2019, 09:04 PM
FOURTHWALL FALLOUT
There had been a time once, long ago, when the sweltering heat of the desert had botherered him to no end. It had made his skin itch beneath his coat and had brought on more swimming sessions than he was really fond of, but over time his body had gotten used to the merciless beating of a sun oberhead and the stifling hot winds that never brought a cooling relief. Twice in his life now he'd called a place like this home, and both had sat on opposite ends of the spectrum as far as allegiences went. He'd learened though that a true proclan could never really house a monster like him. The people just couldn't forgive and forget, and he'd been able to find no retribution among them. So, it was time to go back to what he knew. Blood, sweat, instinct. He would do things the way he knew best, and he would live a life that brought him some sort of satisfaction at last.
When the dense jungle rose up before him cutting through the golden sands he'd been travelling for the last several hours, he could scent the borders that had been laid down by the clan that lived there. He would pause then, muscular form settling on the border as the large black wolf drew to a halt, dappled gold fur glistening in the sunlight. He was clearly not an animal that needed others taking care of him, young and well built with countless battle scars strewn across his body. In his amber eyes was a dangerous glint despite the rest of his body language reading 'relaxed', and he seemed quite comfortable as he took a seat in the sand and prepared to wait.
"SPEECH
There had been a time once, long ago, when the sweltering heat of the desert had botherered him to no end. It had made his skin itch beneath his coat and had brought on more swimming sessions than he was really fond of, but over time his body had gotten used to the merciless beating of a sun oberhead and the stifling hot winds that never brought a cooling relief. Twice in his life now he'd called a place like this home, and both had sat on opposite ends of the spectrum as far as allegiences went. He'd learened though that a true proclan could never really house a monster like him. The people just couldn't forgive and forget, and he'd been able to find no retribution among them. So, it was time to go back to what he knew. Blood, sweat, instinct. He would do things the way he knew best, and he would live a life that brought him some sort of satisfaction at last.
When the dense jungle rose up before him cutting through the golden sands he'd been travelling for the last several hours, he could scent the borders that had been laid down by the clan that lived there. He would pause then, muscular form settling on the border as the large black wolf drew to a halt, dappled gold fur glistening in the sunlight. He was clearly not an animal that needed others taking care of him, young and well built with countless battle scars strewn across his body. In his amber eyes was a dangerous glint despite the rest of his body language reading 'relaxed', and he seemed quite comfortable as he took a seat in the sand and prepared to wait.
"SPEECH
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Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt