Fallen usually didn't travel to the Drooping Willows, as it was far from his temporary home in the WildWoods. The night sky blended with the male's dark, black pelt. The male flicked his ear in frustration, he did not know why he was frustrated. So much anger had filled him, ever since he had celebrated his sister's birthday. He scraped at the nearby Willow tree, as this place was named. He lay down at the base of the big tree, the wispy leaves hanging, threatening to fall upon him. His ghostly eyes scanned the area, seeking some fresh- kill. He stood up, flexed, them flicked his tail in frustration. He lifted his muzzle in the air, then howled. Not a howl of urgency, not a howl of fear, but a howl of loneliness.
<i> What had compelled him to do that? </i> He shrugged then almost headed into the Cedars. But then, wouldn't he try to hunt here? It was good for a change. Every time, he came her, he hunted into the Cedars, the canopy distinguishing the slightest hint of sunlight. The moon was bright, and full bringing a little light to the Willows. He would hunt here. He stalked into the nearby meadow, preparing himself.
(This post was last modified: Feb 01, 2012, 04:57 AM by Fallen.)
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