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Post by fenrirhound on Nov 23, 2012 21:56:44 GMT -5
The hulking beast loped up the side of the steep ice cold cliffs with ease. Every bit as proud as the species he hailed from. Wolf. Masters of the frozen wasteland and feared by all...Except for bears...And wolverines...And mountain lions...And eagles...And of course boars. But those animals excluded, he was one of an unconquerable species. And now he had come to grace this new land, singing the praises of his own kind, and relishing in the muttered agreement that he would soon receive.
He howled proudly, his stance one of beauty and intrigue. "Come to me my brothers." He sang, his heart swelled with joy at his own magnificence.
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Post by Lady Cattenborough on Nov 23, 2012 22:13:41 GMT -5
When a large wolf called for brothers, and instead got a small and scruffy Elsa, disappointment was a given. Reddish-brown fur going in all which-ways, ears half-cocked back and brows quirked, she stared at the big, grey wolf, grey eyes nothing but unsure. Somewhere behind her, her father was following, but he had yet to arrive.
So Elsa stood, and stared. The newcomer walked like he was narrating a story inside his head. She knew what that was like – she often did it herself, playing make-believe, as if life were a story. But she didn’t say anything. Elsa never said anything. She just eyed the other wolf, curious, but wary. It was about twenty more seconds before the alpha made his appearance.
“Ah,” he said joyfully. “Guid mornin’, lad. Hope th’ wee bonnie Elsa didnae startle ye. I am th’ Alpha, caw th’ Big Yan.”
The old wolf could see that this lad was quite big and strong, although not, perhaps, as big as himself. Nonetheless, that sort of wolf was very much needed in those parts, and he looked healthy enough.
“How can we help ye, lad?”
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