Post by blaqwynter on Jan 10, 2010 1:19:01 GMT -5
Time seemed to consume the day, and turned it around into deep darkness; something that befriended Blaqwynter, and something he had known his entire lifespan. The old wolf, seemed to carry a youthful gait, as he trotted briskly, carrying his body arr-owly forth, as his kept his chin downward, and eyes adverted to what may be ahead of him. His paws sleek but massive, as he swiftly breezed through the plains without turmoil. The sky was black, as night kissed the velvet cold sky, allowing snowfall to be announced with large flakes. It wasn't very cold out, but it was warm enough for the flakes to be at the size they descended from.
Finding brand new territory, Blaqwynter never recalled ever being here before. How long has he been traveling for? Days, weeks, months maybe. He seemed to lose all concept of time the further he had gone, and his home land so far away from here. Old memories burning in the back of his rotting mind, he tucked the thought of ever being a pack member again. Though it was years ago, and he was ripening into a ripe old age. The charred male blended well with the scenery, despite the snowfall's coloration, and the opposite powder embedded frozenly upon the pallid ground. There was no breeze, no wind, nothing, just the sound of trees swaying from the coldness, and the air breathing out plagued memories of the past, here in this terrain. The terrain he had never been before, but he could smell war, famine, and distress, but it all seemed to be familiar, but yet long ago.
The wolf kept his pace holding onto his stance, as he padded onward without stopping for anything, as if to pass this territory on by without saying a hello, to the trees with his urine. He paid no heed of who may have been watching him, he was well in tune with his stamina, and endurance, that it seemed as though no one could harm him. Reality was, everything could. Blaqwynter was a Bounty Hunter, and a damned good too, perhaps the best from his region that he was born into, and migrated into. Many paid respect to him, many spat to his paws, but Blaqwynter paid no heed, he was only doing his job, keeping the innocent safe from notorious outlaws.
He had lost count of his captures, his kills, and his rulings of his justice. He had far too much experience to worry about another wolf attacking him, but he never flaunt his abilities, nor his pride. He was not a proud wolf, but more of a silent observer in nature. He never show or told a tale of his work, due to word of mouth. The job was a discreet job, and it had to be kept confidential at all times or risk certain death with being outnumbered by pack members or criminals. He was a well aged fighter, but still would rather walk away unless his buttons were pushed to the limit, and he may be forced to show the other wolf he was not taking his or her bullshit. Many knew him as a Bounty Hunter, but no one here would. Unless word traveled this far that is. However; if found out his identity here, no one would know who he was hunting, due to it being highly restricted of mouth.
Was he really here to catch another outlaw? No one would know, but the criminal himself. Although despite the discretion of being a Bounty Hunter, nowadays he was becoming more open about it. If anyone asked, he told, but never flaunted it. He taught a few pups a thing or two in self defense but that was as far as he took it, due to the seriousness of the job; but who cares right?
The onyx male soon finished his steps, and stopped to sniff the ground as he realized that he was further out then anticipated. He took a settle look around himself observing the darkness of the sky, and then looking toward the trees. Brimming his eyes into slits, he gruffed lightly in low tone, as his breath just might be seen by the wolf who he felt was watching him. He looked to the direction as he felt the presence, uplifting the left side of his muzzle to display the tip of his large left pearl. A pretty pearl for an old man, and he still knew how to use his guns when needed.
He grumbled in low toned manner holding his haunches upward, and lowering his cranium further toward the ground, offering his breath in the air as he gruffed with roughness to his chords. He slowly turned away, and decided to slow down his pace to conserve his energy, just in case it was needed. Blaqwynter looked ahead of himself knowing he was starving, and it looked as though it may be his lucky night. There were a few deer eating the bark off the trees several hundred yards away from him, and he kept his body low, attempting to blend in like a stealth bomber at flight. He had to do a single ambush in order to feed his large hungry belly, the way he needed to ambush in solitaire, was to round himself into the direction his brimmed his eyes upon to the stranger who was watching him. Keeping to the trees, keeping low, he would succeed. He done this countless times, and being in the wide open never worked. He swayed to the left of him, to carry his heavy body toward the darkness of the trees, in hopes that he'll catch a deer and eat tonight......
ooc: Anyone can join in if they like :-)
Finding brand new territory, Blaqwynter never recalled ever being here before. How long has he been traveling for? Days, weeks, months maybe. He seemed to lose all concept of time the further he had gone, and his home land so far away from here. Old memories burning in the back of his rotting mind, he tucked the thought of ever being a pack member again. Though it was years ago, and he was ripening into a ripe old age. The charred male blended well with the scenery, despite the snowfall's coloration, and the opposite powder embedded frozenly upon the pallid ground. There was no breeze, no wind, nothing, just the sound of trees swaying from the coldness, and the air breathing out plagued memories of the past, here in this terrain. The terrain he had never been before, but he could smell war, famine, and distress, but it all seemed to be familiar, but yet long ago.
The wolf kept his pace holding onto his stance, as he padded onward without stopping for anything, as if to pass this territory on by without saying a hello, to the trees with his urine. He paid no heed of who may have been watching him, he was well in tune with his stamina, and endurance, that it seemed as though no one could harm him. Reality was, everything could. Blaqwynter was a Bounty Hunter, and a damned good too, perhaps the best from his region that he was born into, and migrated into. Many paid respect to him, many spat to his paws, but Blaqwynter paid no heed, he was only doing his job, keeping the innocent safe from notorious outlaws.
He had lost count of his captures, his kills, and his rulings of his justice. He had far too much experience to worry about another wolf attacking him, but he never flaunt his abilities, nor his pride. He was not a proud wolf, but more of a silent observer in nature. He never show or told a tale of his work, due to word of mouth. The job was a discreet job, and it had to be kept confidential at all times or risk certain death with being outnumbered by pack members or criminals. He was a well aged fighter, but still would rather walk away unless his buttons were pushed to the limit, and he may be forced to show the other wolf he was not taking his or her bullshit. Many knew him as a Bounty Hunter, but no one here would. Unless word traveled this far that is. However; if found out his identity here, no one would know who he was hunting, due to it being highly restricted of mouth.
Was he really here to catch another outlaw? No one would know, but the criminal himself. Although despite the discretion of being a Bounty Hunter, nowadays he was becoming more open about it. If anyone asked, he told, but never flaunted it. He taught a few pups a thing or two in self defense but that was as far as he took it, due to the seriousness of the job; but who cares right?
The onyx male soon finished his steps, and stopped to sniff the ground as he realized that he was further out then anticipated. He took a settle look around himself observing the darkness of the sky, and then looking toward the trees. Brimming his eyes into slits, he gruffed lightly in low tone, as his breath just might be seen by the wolf who he felt was watching him. He looked to the direction as he felt the presence, uplifting the left side of his muzzle to display the tip of his large left pearl. A pretty pearl for an old man, and he still knew how to use his guns when needed.
He grumbled in low toned manner holding his haunches upward, and lowering his cranium further toward the ground, offering his breath in the air as he gruffed with roughness to his chords. He slowly turned away, and decided to slow down his pace to conserve his energy, just in case it was needed. Blaqwynter looked ahead of himself knowing he was starving, and it looked as though it may be his lucky night. There were a few deer eating the bark off the trees several hundred yards away from him, and he kept his body low, attempting to blend in like a stealth bomber at flight. He had to do a single ambush in order to feed his large hungry belly, the way he needed to ambush in solitaire, was to round himself into the direction his brimmed his eyes upon to the stranger who was watching him. Keeping to the trees, keeping low, he would succeed. He done this countless times, and being in the wide open never worked. He swayed to the left of him, to carry his heavy body toward the darkness of the trees, in hopes that he'll catch a deer and eat tonight......
ooc: Anyone can join in if they like :-)