07-30-2019, 08:58 PM
FOURTHWALL FALLOUT
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
Fourthwall had never felt small in the world. Then again, he hadn't lived the life that Draekon had. Fourth had been born to a massive pack of direwolves, to a low ranking outskirter female. He'd left her and his two siblings at around 6 months old and had never looked back- not because they hadn't treated him right or hadn't wanted him, but because Fourthwall was a monster in his own right. While he was happy to socialise and was active enough to always be doing something positive for the clan like patrolling or hunting, the fact remained that he had his own issues to tend to. Whatever wires were crossed in Fourth had always made it hard for him to connect and sympathize with others, and it was this that had caused a rift between his family in him. As cold as it sounded, Fourth hadn't cared for them at all. They were just people who had wanted something from him, and he had no interest in helping anyone but himself. It was selfish, but he'd never pretended to not be so. It had always been like this, and there were many people who called him heartless, cruel, and rude. And he could be those things sometimes, sure, just like he could be adventurous, playful, and loyal. People just had to stick around long enough to mean something was all.
There was no real issue keeping Fourth awake that night. No, he'd simply gotten bored earlier and napped when he shouldn't, resulting in a troublesome lack of wantinig to sleep now. It wouldn't have been so bad if there were people to bug or follow around, but the whole reason he'd passed out after his workout earlier was because the camp was so dead lately that there was nothing to do. And now, in the dead of night, things were no different. This had left him wandering the camp aimlessly, the silence defeaning in it's own right, until he heard something.
It was the shuffling of large paws dragging through the sand, and the low, distressed grunts of a large feline. His pace would quicken and as he came around the side of a clump of trees he found Draekon frantically pacing, blue eyes glazed over as if he were lost in his own head instead of aware of what was around him. He looked like he was about to snap, and Fourth didn't like it. Within the clan threats had to be controlled, and Draekon would have to learn to live with whatever demons were haunting him.
A very lionish huff would escape his dark lips to announce his presence, unthreatening but firm in its volume to make sure that the tiger heard him coming. "Keep your paws on, Stripes." the maned hound would say, not knowing the others name and finding nothing wrong with making a lame one up for him. "What's wrong?" he'd ask, head cocking slightly. He still kept what he said to the other short and sweet because he wasn't really sure if they understood language or just body language.
"SPEECH
BLACK/GOLD HELLHOUND - MALE - 19 MONTHS - THE PITT
Fourthwall had never felt small in the world. Then again, he hadn't lived the life that Draekon had. Fourth had been born to a massive pack of direwolves, to a low ranking outskirter female. He'd left her and his two siblings at around 6 months old and had never looked back- not because they hadn't treated him right or hadn't wanted him, but because Fourthwall was a monster in his own right. While he was happy to socialise and was active enough to always be doing something positive for the clan like patrolling or hunting, the fact remained that he had his own issues to tend to. Whatever wires were crossed in Fourth had always made it hard for him to connect and sympathize with others, and it was this that had caused a rift between his family in him. As cold as it sounded, Fourth hadn't cared for them at all. They were just people who had wanted something from him, and he had no interest in helping anyone but himself. It was selfish, but he'd never pretended to not be so. It had always been like this, and there were many people who called him heartless, cruel, and rude. And he could be those things sometimes, sure, just like he could be adventurous, playful, and loyal. People just had to stick around long enough to mean something was all.
There was no real issue keeping Fourth awake that night. No, he'd simply gotten bored earlier and napped when he shouldn't, resulting in a troublesome lack of wantinig to sleep now. It wouldn't have been so bad if there were people to bug or follow around, but the whole reason he'd passed out after his workout earlier was because the camp was so dead lately that there was nothing to do. And now, in the dead of night, things were no different. This had left him wandering the camp aimlessly, the silence defeaning in it's own right, until he heard something.
It was the shuffling of large paws dragging through the sand, and the low, distressed grunts of a large feline. His pace would quicken and as he came around the side of a clump of trees he found Draekon frantically pacing, blue eyes glazed over as if he were lost in his own head instead of aware of what was around him. He looked like he was about to snap, and Fourth didn't like it. Within the clan threats had to be controlled, and Draekon would have to learn to live with whatever demons were haunting him.
A very lionish huff would escape his dark lips to announce his presence, unthreatening but firm in its volume to make sure that the tiger heard him coming. "Keep your paws on, Stripes." the maned hound would say, not knowing the others name and finding nothing wrong with making a lame one up for him. "What's wrong?" he'd ask, head cocking slightly. He still kept what he said to the other short and sweet because he wasn't really sure if they understood language or just body language.
"SPEECH
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Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt