Not wanting to over stay his welcome near the lake, York had left as soon as the fog had unveiled the land below the slopes. He had only met the weak pup, but he doubted his presence hadn’t been noticed by its other inhabitants. Besides, meeting them might not have been pleasurable.
Once again, he hadn’t picked the safest of ways down the mountain. Here and there, a rock would give way and he would end up sliding down a little ways. Roughing up his pads and muscles. Nothing he could really complain about, though. York was hardy.
Constantly he was contemplating what he wanted to do now. Find a little place to call his own. Explore the world until his bones had rotted too much ‘neath his hide. Since coming across the bird child, he wondered if he might ever find his own children again. Efthalia, what ever happened to her? At the time, he hadn’t cared. Generally - even now - he really just didn’t care. But he supposed they were somehow bonded in a different way then with other wolves. Their relationship hadn’t been terribly traditional, either. It barely existed. Now, it had withered even more.
Past moments. The dust of his trail. They all were probably far away by now. Hell, maybe they were even on another plane. Stolen away in the night by Death.
One thing was certain: York was alive and well! That was really all that matter. Especially when one was alone.
His muscles braced themselves as he took another unsuspected slide down the scree. York’s tail dragged against the ground behind him as he rode it out. Once he was able to recollect himself again, he continued southward.
Mar 04, 2018 01:07 AM
[ ignore ]