Post by Ὀδύσσεια♐ on Jun 2, 2013 18:21:12 GMT -5
Nirco
Many lands were decimated. He'd seen the smoke and flames that had erupted not so long ago, ravaging both free and pack lands and scattering wolves left and right. And while Nirco had little knowledge of the state the fire had left the neighbors in, he had expected to come across a territory with a similar fate. But he had quickly found it wasn't so. Upon his arrival, he noticed Gröavche seemed to have been left relatively unscathed thanks to it's mostly mucky and watery landscape. There were burn marks upon a few trees and shrubs here and there, but it appeared as if it had still been too wet for the flames to have taken a stronger hold.
He had seen this place once or twice before over the years, sneaking across Ravensbrück's territories like a shadow. It had only been recently that he had begun to notice a distinct lack of activity in this particular range. While once there had been the scent of plenty of wolves, now it seemed to have been abandoned. Perfect he thought, his plans already unfolding in his head. It seemed hard to image many wanting this place as their home, for it was inhospitable in it's nature and rather scarce as far as prey went. But for Nirco, it seemed perfect. Nobody would bother him here except the ones he brought to this new sanctuary of his.
The brute had never been a slave, having been born in the higher ranks of a distant pack and roaming free ever since his departure from it. But there had always been a growing disgust for the often inhumane practice many dominors partook in. He had seen first hand what it could do to the ones unfortunate enough to end up at the Rock and then sold off like a piece of property. He had even taken it upon himself to kill two or three wolves he had come across in the act of beating a slave. The very thought of it put a bad taste on his tongue and the hunger for their blood in his stomach.
Trudging through the swamps that did little to slow down his massive dark frame, he marked and rubbed his sent against the rough bark of half-dead trees. This whole idea of his probably would of seemed absurd to anyone that knew him. Nirco hadn't been the social type in years, preferring to flee from others or scare them off. But recently he'd had a change of heart, finding himself growing lonelier and lonelier as time went on and more and more concerned over everything going on around him. But to claim a territory? It was a big stretch for someone like him. Yet two particular wolves he knew drove his desire on. As unsocial as he could be, he could no longer stand back and watch. He'd free every slave he could. Offer them a home here if they wanted, even. And he wasn't about to let his own anxieties hold him back any longer. Gröavche was his kingdom now and he would cast the light over these dark times.
