Post by Hannibal on Dec 10, 2015 23:31:51 GMT -5
As waves bumped gently into the rock at the edge of the cavern, two figures walked along the beach, their feet wet and covered in sand. One, the smaller, was prancing gracefully alongside his companion, bright whites, oranges, and browns contrasted by the extreme blackness that splattered his coat along with the others. His huge round ears were perked high atop his small skull, and his tongue lolled out of his open, grinning mouth. The creature was clearly in high spirits, despite the chill that pervaded the land and that was exaggerated by the ocean, which was what made him stand out--apart from the fact that he was not a wolf.
Next to him was the wolf, walking along at a calm, steady pace with practiced ease. Hannibal was no stranger to walking, for he had been in motion for nearly his entire life. Of all the years he had been in this land, two thirds of them had been spent on the move, though he planned to slow down again now that he had joined a pack. That pack, Airila, was becoming more of a family to the masked brute, and he was meeting more wolves than he had since he left home. So far, they had all been kind--especially Calantha, though she was no wolf at all.
While the pair meandered down the shore, they shared an easy silence, comfortable with each others' company. Hannibal had sort of adopted Graham, his painted dog companion, when he was just a pup; it was more of the small dog following him around than anything, but the wolf chose consciously to feed and care for him when he could not, and the two shared an inexplicable bond that would likely never break. They were very close, always sharing fond touches and teasing each other, and lately that had evolved into teaching Graham to protect himself as well.
The dog had always been fairly timid in the face of danger; if Hannibal was conscious and able to fight, Graham had always kept himself close but safely away from the danger, and his friend had taken the grunt of damage offered. There were times, however, when Hannibal would be incapacitated, and the most Graham could offer him was a ferocious display that was simply a mask--rapid barking and yipping, raised hackles. If he were to be challenged, the poor dog would likely leap back and dance away from the danger instead of engaging.
And so, with the help of the much smaller coyote, Graham had been learning basic defense alongside his experienced lupine friend. Hannibal had not taught him very much so far, but it took a great deal of persuasion on his part for the dog to even agree to the smallest of practice spars; he simply was too non-confrontational to be thrown too much at once. They had just come from a bit of practice, which explained the good mood from the smaller male, as he relished in the peacefulness offered by the soft waves and gentle ocean sounds.
"The sun will be setting soon, Graham," Hannibal spoke with a deep and rumbling voice, the cadence as decadent as the intensity of his amber eyes. Those eyes turned up to the darkening sky for a moment before settling upon the caves up ahead, not far from their place on the beach. "We might as well take shelter in the cavern, there, and head back to the forest tomorrow. Arche may have a job for us come morning."
Words || 594
Tags || Jadir
Notes || For whenever you've got time, Nia. (:
Next to him was the wolf, walking along at a calm, steady pace with practiced ease. Hannibal was no stranger to walking, for he had been in motion for nearly his entire life. Of all the years he had been in this land, two thirds of them had been spent on the move, though he planned to slow down again now that he had joined a pack. That pack, Airila, was becoming more of a family to the masked brute, and he was meeting more wolves than he had since he left home. So far, they had all been kind--especially Calantha, though she was no wolf at all.
While the pair meandered down the shore, they shared an easy silence, comfortable with each others' company. Hannibal had sort of adopted Graham, his painted dog companion, when he was just a pup; it was more of the small dog following him around than anything, but the wolf chose consciously to feed and care for him when he could not, and the two shared an inexplicable bond that would likely never break. They were very close, always sharing fond touches and teasing each other, and lately that had evolved into teaching Graham to protect himself as well.
The dog had always been fairly timid in the face of danger; if Hannibal was conscious and able to fight, Graham had always kept himself close but safely away from the danger, and his friend had taken the grunt of damage offered. There were times, however, when Hannibal would be incapacitated, and the most Graham could offer him was a ferocious display that was simply a mask--rapid barking and yipping, raised hackles. If he were to be challenged, the poor dog would likely leap back and dance away from the danger instead of engaging.
And so, with the help of the much smaller coyote, Graham had been learning basic defense alongside his experienced lupine friend. Hannibal had not taught him very much so far, but it took a great deal of persuasion on his part for the dog to even agree to the smallest of practice spars; he simply was too non-confrontational to be thrown too much at once. They had just come from a bit of practice, which explained the good mood from the smaller male, as he relished in the peacefulness offered by the soft waves and gentle ocean sounds.
"The sun will be setting soon, Graham," Hannibal spoke with a deep and rumbling voice, the cadence as decadent as the intensity of his amber eyes. Those eyes turned up to the darkening sky for a moment before settling upon the caves up ahead, not far from their place on the beach. "We might as well take shelter in the cavern, there, and head back to the forest tomorrow. Arche may have a job for us come morning."
Words || 594
Tags || Jadir
Notes || For whenever you've got time, Nia. (:
