<i>Pardon the sheer awkwardness of this, lol. >_></i>
Turk had been in the middle of traversing the mountains when bitter night had fallen around him—he had cursed, having wanted to get down to the foothills in time to find a place to sleep. In the end he had curled up and crashed in a rocky cavern, out of the way of the wind. It was probably warmer up there than any alcove he would’ve found in the highlands, but that wasn’t the point. These dens with stone walls, they were linked strongly to his memories—that of his childhood at The Rock, growing up thinking that the world was a bright place when, in truth, he had been living amongst darkness all along. When the plains wolf woke up the next morning he almost thought that he was back there, if not for the briefest moment. And then his mind snapped to the present—his endless journey, to see the world. His goal was rather vague; sometimes he fancied that he was just trying to see if there was any <i>good</i> in the world, any good in people. So far, he had not found any significant evidence of it.
He was a man accustomed to scowling, even when he had very little of interest going on in his head. As he carefully scaled down the rest of the mountain that bright autumn morning and began to lope through the lands called Riddle Heights by the locals, that same grim expression had settled on his scarred face.
Yes, he believed that his journey was endless, and in vain as well. Packs were things that didn’t really appeal to him—he was someone much more used to solitude. At least then he could depend simply on himself, what he believed was right. In a pack, he was under the jurisdiction of others—others whom he might not agree with. Turk had a problem of insubordination based on his own beliefs—something that he carried around as a scar on his face—and that was the basis of his resistance to joining any type of group. He was not made for it, he supposed. The thought of bending his head always to someone was repugnant; he had a wild streak of individualism.
Apart from all that, the traveling was much easier now that the elevation had leveled off. His gray eyes registered, a little ways off, the dusty-gray shape of another wolf. He wasn’t close enough to notice gender or if it was part of a pack, and Turk didn’t <i>really</i> care. Making no move to venture much closer than his parallel traveling path, he continued on.
Sex: Male