Autumn had come to Wild Rye Fields, but unlike in the woods, or even his childhood in the southern mountains, it didn’t bring the slow death that was usually its mark. There was a distinct chill in the air, but the pine trees stood as tall as any tree bordering the tundra was able, in all of their evergreen glory, and the rye waved in the breeze, tall and golden, where it would remain until the first snows knocked it down. Truly the Fields wolves had picked their home well. Only the lone oak, over the communal den, had started to fade, reminding them all that winter was on its way. But already they were in a much better position than last year, with full caches and plenty of adults to keep them that way. Even with three pups to look after, the pack was well off, and their leader could hardly be more pleased. The king was observing his lands from the ridge marking its eastern edge, resting his legs after a morning patrol. The rest of the pack was out and about too, he spotted a few of them out amongst the grain, beginning the day’s tasks around the territory. Somewhere he could hear high pitched voices barking in what sounded like an argument, making his eyes roll slightly, as he wondered what his sons were fighting over now. But at least that meant they were safe - part of him was still reeling from the episode with the cougar, and he thanked the stars that Askan had managed to save his son’s life, and escape with his own. It was damn lucky that their had only been minor injuries, and the alpha had increased his patrols along the southern border since, where before he had been more worried about the open sides, he now realized the danger of the forest. But all was well in the end, and Drestig could draw a sigh of relief, thankful yet again for his pack mates. Only the heavens knew what would get thrown at them next. Word count: 346 "Speech" Thoughts. |
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Drestig Avalon
For little lady @Sphinx - daddy/daughter thread <3
Played by Ashbash who has 61 posts.
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Sphinx Avalon
Here she comes <3
It was determined with little thought that Sphinx enjoyed this new weather they were experiencing. The air held a crisp, refreshing chill that nipped at her nose and what a relief it was from the heat that once plagued the land, making her pant heavily in futile attempts at cooling herself and refuse to budge from the shady cover the single Oak tree that marked the pack's communal den offered. Her own personal oasis since it was made pretty clear early on that Griffin had laid a personal claim to the pond that lay nestled amongst the swaying sea of rye stalks mirroring the golden rays of sunshine that illuminated their coloration. His stinky scent was everywhere around that place. As the season began to shift from summer to autumn, the majestic oak too began to make changes that fascinated the young Avalon. Where once its leaves were vibrant and green like the grass they soon obtained colors that contrasted greatly before eventually flaking off to tumble toward the ground below. Quickly Silva would pick up these fallen leaves and store them away in her secret hideout; which was not so secret anymore now that so many collected leaves bulged out from the hole she used to hide them in, in hopes of keeping them to herself and out of the paws of her troublesome brothers whom would surely destroy the beautiful things. Sigh, boys just couldn't appreciate the art of nature, could they?
Today it was not the newest addition of fallen leaves that touched the ground that captured her attention, but the disappearing figure of her father into the grain. Things had gotten really intense around the pack since that big ol' mean cat came around and tried to make a snack out of Gale. Increased vigilance from the adults while the children played, more patrols made by her father which in turn meant less bonding time with the kids, but her favorite guardian had saved the day and her level of adoration for that pile of grumpy bones soared to new heights. If only she could become that amazing one day!
Thus speckled limbs trudged determinedly through the broken patches of bent stalks that signaled the path taken by the Rye patriarch, eventually following the ground uphill to the ridge that marked the eastern edge of her parent's territory. Here, huffing and puffing because it was still quite a journey for a growing four-month-old despite the training Askan had given her making rounds up to the Outlook, she would collapse at his paws with an enthusiastic wag of her tail in greeting, soft amber eyes glancing up into his similar hued pair. The lack of proper air in her lungs making it a little harder to get that 'Hi, Dad how ya doing?' out and in the open than usual for the typically quiet girl. Regardless her parents were always pretty good at getting the jest of what she was wanting to say without her having to use words. Thank the stars.
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