The Central Plains (Lions and Tigers, Oh My!): Free RP
- Thread starter Inkling
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Frodosgurl
Well-known member
"Follow me. I know a hollow not to far from here. Drainor doesn't know the location." she said softly.
Josh
New member
ooc:Yeah but I don’t want everyone to know I’m a werewolf. It kinda takes away the point of turning into a human or not if all the animals could just sense that your not what you are. My character DOES NOT have a were wolf smell cause I don’t want people to recognize what he is at first site. Korkoa obviously knows what he is after that little fight, but not everyone would know.
Mozart the Meerkitten
Well-known member
OCC: Personally at first I thought it was only a regular wolf. And you must remeber for future refrence cats have a better sense of smell than most animals... and even if they couldn't see him they may be able to hear him.
Just wanted to let you know.
Frodosgurl
Well-known member
"Wasn't a problem. Name's Kayla. I am a ex-White Witch wolf that was a complete rebel. Rebelled against the witch and obviously my own kind." she said.
Frodosgurl
Well-known member
"I curse the day the witch forced me to aid her. I sware I shall never do it again. For Aslan." Kayla said slightly bowing. "Now, let's continue before someone sniffs us out or something."
Frodosgurl
Well-known member
"I know that area well. I used to go there when I wanted to get away from the other wolves. They can be so pathetic." Kayla said rolling her eyes at the thought of the others.
Frodosgurl
Well-known member
"Unless the wolf happens to be a jerk though."
Little Otter
New member
Henchwuffie
In the empty plains, there is nobody in sight. The weather has turned particularly miserable, dull clouds hanging low over equally drab grass. Picturesque snow flurries are turned into stinging shards to bite at one's nose and eyes, and the frigid wind invades every hollow-in-the-grass shelter. Those who live here, if any do, have hidden themselves away in their dens and runs; not even a rabbit can be seen.
A solitary wolf makes his way through the fields, keeping low with his nose to the ground. His shaggy, unkempt gray fur does not stand out in the dead grass – really, it seems to be the sort of non-color to fade into any background. There's certainly nothing about him to make you look twice: lean and yellow-eyed, not particularly large or formidable for his kind. He moves with a sort of slinking, crouching gait that immediately suggests wary uncertainty.
If, however, one were to look twice, it would become clear that his posture does not indicate timidity but cunning. The lank frame that might have been taken to be underfed can instead be seen to be pure agile, compact muscle. And there is certainly nothing fearful or desperate in the intelligent golden eyes – this creature is not hunted, but hunter.
He picks up his pace, loping easily on despite the stiff wind. The trail is cooling, but he has been well trained. By tomorrow at this time, he guesses, he will have caught up with the traitor-wolf, Kayla, and her companion.
In the empty plains, there is nobody in sight. The weather has turned particularly miserable, dull clouds hanging low over equally drab grass. Picturesque snow flurries are turned into stinging shards to bite at one's nose and eyes, and the frigid wind invades every hollow-in-the-grass shelter. Those who live here, if any do, have hidden themselves away in their dens and runs; not even a rabbit can be seen.
A solitary wolf makes his way through the fields, keeping low with his nose to the ground. His shaggy, unkempt gray fur does not stand out in the dead grass – really, it seems to be the sort of non-color to fade into any background. There's certainly nothing about him to make you look twice: lean and yellow-eyed, not particularly large or formidable for his kind. He moves with a sort of slinking, crouching gait that immediately suggests wary uncertainty.
If, however, one were to look twice, it would become clear that his posture does not indicate timidity but cunning. The lank frame that might have been taken to be underfed can instead be seen to be pure agile, compact muscle. And there is certainly nothing fearful or desperate in the intelligent golden eyes – this creature is not hunted, but hunter.
He picks up his pace, loping easily on despite the stiff wind. The trail is cooling, but he has been well trained. By tomorrow at this time, he guesses, he will have caught up with the traitor-wolf, Kayla, and her companion.
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