OOC: Just a friendly tip, I was told you're still learning the ropes so please take this as friendly advise! You used a little bit of godmoding there by saying that Rhysis was slow and that she vanished from his sight. If you write what the other persons character is doing, that’s considered godmoding. It’s fine to describe what they’ve already done, such as moved from standing to a sit, but if you control their actions such as when you said “But he was slow, definitely” is taking control of him- when I adopted him he was actually described as ‘built for speed not strength’ which makes a lot of the post void. I’ll reply to it however I just wanted to point that out so you’d be aware of it for the future. Practise makes perfect! :)
<blockquote>He heard her flurry of movement behind him as he danced through the thickets. With his slim, streamlined shape not much stood in his way as he hurtled full speed back towards her den. The cold winter air stung his pale eyes, whilst the thorns of the thickets tugged at his fur and swiped at his eyes, but they were nothing more then a gentle touch compared to the torture he had endured in his birth pack, this was fun in comparison and as to what he was going to do when he got there… ah, it brought a smile to his mouth.
He remembered on his run, what it had felt like to have something belong to you and have another ruin it. As a very young pup he’d taken favour to a pinecone. Yes a very simple, every day object but it was his. He hid it within a bush outside his den where no one would find it, and when the pack were out to hunt or fight, or wherever it was they would go, he’d sneak out and play chase with the pinecone- tossing it high in the air and darting after it, trying to catch it in his jaws before it hit the ground. It’d amuse him for hours and he taught him how to have fun, something never permitted around the other wolves in his pack, or even his littermates. He considered that pinecone a friend, perhaps his best friend… until he found it chewed up by his father. Although he had held back the tears that wanted to escape him, as he watched his beloved pinecone shredded across his fathers smug mug, it hadn’t failed to break his heart that the only thing he’d ever cared about had been destroyed. His father hadn’t even said a word to him, just muttered about toys and war as he sauntered off, leaving Rhysis with the remains of his best friend…
The memory brought a snarl to his chest, the pain flooding his body again. He couldn’t make his father pay for that, but he could certainly make Rebecca feel the same as he did.
Much to his surprise she was standing in front of her den when he arrived. It angered him even more, to the point where his hackles were raised, his tail and head were held high whilst low rumbled and snarls escaped from his chest. His gaze narrowed on her, leather lips were pulled back and threw a guttural snarl in her direction. He could attack yes, but he was hungry and unfocused, the rage was building in him and he knew he needed a clear head to fight…
Instead, he began to mark his scent around the area of her den. He kept his distance from her, never turning his back or looking away from her steady gaze. He didn’t need to go inside to ruin the place… marking it as his own should be painful enough.</blockquote>
(This post was last modified: Jan 05, 2012, 01:11 PM by Rhysis.)