Post by tyrion on Feb 14, 2012 13:39:11 GMT -5
The moon was at its crescent, appearing like a silver gash in the body of the black sky speckled with stars. It was a clear night and windless. It was the warmest that Tyrion had seen in the weeks he'd traveled down from the place he'd lost his sister. The thought was as cruel to his heart as a blade, filling him with the urge to tilt his head and cry out a great song of mourning, but a loner never knew when unfriendly ears might call claw and tooth to an unfamiliar sound.
Tyrion's once brawny physique had been reduced to a ghost of its former strength. His long legs jutted out beneath him like stilts holding up the skin and bones form above them. His fur was a matted, tangled mess, sticking out in all directions and his face, sunken as it was, appeared ghastly with the wild amber eyes that looked outward. Within these eyes one could see the madness of grief.
The days were having their toll on him. He'd not seen another wolf in weeks now and had taken to muttering to himself every now and then. Normally his little murmurs were of finding his sister or on calling himself a failure. He had failed after all. His father had asked him to protect his sisters. It was the last thing he'd asked of him and Tyrion had lost them both now.
A strangled cough released itself from Tyrion's lungs and the timber male soon wondered if he was going to catch his death. "It wouldn't matter anyway." his low baritone announced to the still night air, bitterness in his tone.
He was walking along at an agonizingly slow pace, his huge paws nearly dragging beneath him as they sunk in and out of snow. He walked with the pace of one who'd lost purpose. What use was there for speed when there was no prize at the end of the journey? The noise of a branch snapping caused the male to freeze in place, eyes sweeping over his surroundings as his ears strained to pick up the sound of whatever was moving nearby.
His head lowered, nostrils flaring. He felt quite the fool when a snowshoe rabbit burst out of the bushes and loped over the hill that jutted out from the tangle of trees surrounding it. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger but he simply watched the rabbit go, not having the energy to give chase. Instead, he dragged himself to the base of the hill and curled up beside a birch tree, laying his head on an outstretched paw. Winter was a cruel mistress...
Tyrion's once brawny physique had been reduced to a ghost of its former strength. His long legs jutted out beneath him like stilts holding up the skin and bones form above them. His fur was a matted, tangled mess, sticking out in all directions and his face, sunken as it was, appeared ghastly with the wild amber eyes that looked outward. Within these eyes one could see the madness of grief.
The days were having their toll on him. He'd not seen another wolf in weeks now and had taken to muttering to himself every now and then. Normally his little murmurs were of finding his sister or on calling himself a failure. He had failed after all. His father had asked him to protect his sisters. It was the last thing he'd asked of him and Tyrion had lost them both now.
A strangled cough released itself from Tyrion's lungs and the timber male soon wondered if he was going to catch his death. "It wouldn't matter anyway." his low baritone announced to the still night air, bitterness in his tone.
He was walking along at an agonizingly slow pace, his huge paws nearly dragging beneath him as they sunk in and out of snow. He walked with the pace of one who'd lost purpose. What use was there for speed when there was no prize at the end of the journey? The noise of a branch snapping caused the male to freeze in place, eyes sweeping over his surroundings as his ears strained to pick up the sound of whatever was moving nearby.
His head lowered, nostrils flaring. He felt quite the fool when a snowshoe rabbit burst out of the bushes and loped over the hill that jutted out from the tangle of trees surrounding it. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger but he simply watched the rabbit go, not having the energy to give chase. Instead, he dragged himself to the base of the hill and curled up beside a birch tree, laying his head on an outstretched paw. Winter was a cruel mistress...