Six Feet Under
Oct 8, 2013 17:18:33 GMT -6
Post by Delta Titus on Oct 8, 2013 17:18:33 GMT -6
Traveling on his own for far too long, he'd come to a place of refuge, a place of rest as the soothing scents and smells of his kind lay near. It wasn't as strong as he would call a pack, but something that was growing to soon be more, more worthy, more destructive, unbeatable. Hiding in the shadows all of his life, including how he crossed into the country towards its discovery, he had finally found where the beginning of his species would hopefully group and become a pack alone. Titus had found it of his luck to find it so soon in its progress, the possibility aching him to move further that he'd have a chance to be with more understanding individuals instead of the puny humans and their devices. One of these days he'd hope there would be another war, to take away the human's lives even though he used to be one of them himself. Over what he could remember to a point in his life was that almost a thousand and a half years ago he had the ability to live a normal life. Do things humans used to, fall in love with a lovely woman, pass on his genetics to a child as well as his family name in the business. That was all over, now he had every reason to hate the likes of a human, a pathetic mortal that was worth nothing to him anymore. It was best this way though, they were safe at the time since they had run him out and he had moved onto bigger and better things besides behind the beast during the night.
He sighed heavily, watching the air crisp around his nostrils and appear like a thin fog as it floated into the air, gracefully wrapping each stream together in a dance of slow death. Orange lights tinted his fur from his side towards the sun, a light breeze filling the horizon atmosphere. The hints of purple toning the silver in his ashen lines that edged along the outer tips of his hair, phasing towards the most of his body to be an ebony black. Titus stood clear of the lands, threading closer on his large hind legs towards the scent until he found himself upon the borders, or what he presumed they were. Stepping one foot towards in position, he moved the other slightly back, leaving his hands at the sides as he raised his muzzle. Through his razor-line canines and sharp tongue bellowed his low and beautiful voice of song, lasting for longer moments towards the leader himself. As the song of his ended, he kept himself occupied by creating shapes with his claw on one of the trees nearest to him. The sounds of humans in the far distant whispered towards his keen sense of hearing, but from what he could hear was that they weren't even coming his way. Perfect. Tearing his nails down the trunk to create five long lines, he grown bored and rested his back against it, tail curled around to press closely to his back as he waited.