10-04-2018, 08:27 PM
The young one's sendings were muddled and unknowing, a warped mix of two-leg things and wolfish instincts. Thorn Paw's ears flattened as he picked through the bones of the answer. Though the pup understood the question at least. Sort of. No pack admitted a deeper loss, the scent of it strong enough to pause the old wolf's stride. Disapproval radiated for the simple acceptance. Alone was not natural. Alone was against nature.
Why? he demanded, aghast, but perhaps the question never pierced the louder shout of distress in the pup's mind. A growl rumbled deep, irritation for the young's reckless antics as he suddenly shifted. Thorn Paw shook, ruffling off the frustration, and prepared to follow.
A moment later black sand sank under the weight of his paws. The pup was ready to pounce into the churning sea, where the stone bones of twisted ones thrust ancient from the waves. The instinct was right but wasted; one might as well rag at dust. Images of hunting affirmed the pup's growl, but with victory over the bloody carcass already won. To illustrate the point, a lunge and nip commanded attention. A flat sound vibrated in the wolf's throat. Thorn Paw sat afterwards, tail neat about his feet. Eyes lambent.
He sent insistent images of pack; the thrill of the run and the hunt; the playful spring of play; the nuzzle and warmth of mate; the wriggling joy of pups. Interspersed between, his impression of the two-leg equivalent of such things. It had the tone of admonishment; an elder guiding foolish youth of the most basic of needs. The dream alone was not enough. A brother needed the heat of his own kind as much as he needed a pack to run with. Dog was not enough.
His muzzle lifted, expectant; waiting to sense understanding.
Why? he demanded, aghast, but perhaps the question never pierced the louder shout of distress in the pup's mind. A growl rumbled deep, irritation for the young's reckless antics as he suddenly shifted. Thorn Paw shook, ruffling off the frustration, and prepared to follow.
A moment later black sand sank under the weight of his paws. The pup was ready to pounce into the churning sea, where the stone bones of twisted ones thrust ancient from the waves. The instinct was right but wasted; one might as well rag at dust. Images of hunting affirmed the pup's growl, but with victory over the bloody carcass already won. To illustrate the point, a lunge and nip commanded attention. A flat sound vibrated in the wolf's throat. Thorn Paw sat afterwards, tail neat about his feet. Eyes lambent.
He sent insistent images of pack; the thrill of the run and the hunt; the playful spring of play; the nuzzle and warmth of mate; the wriggling joy of pups. Interspersed between, his impression of the two-leg equivalent of such things. It had the tone of admonishment; an elder guiding foolish youth of the most basic of needs. The dream alone was not enough. A brother needed the heat of his own kind as much as he needed a pack to run with. Dog was not enough.
His muzzle lifted, expectant; waiting to sense understanding.