Dec 12, 2015 10:30:52 GMT -5
Post by BJÖRN on Dec 12, 2015 10:30:52 GMT -5
» B J Ö R N
Everything was slow today. Morning was just rising above the sparse, gnarled treeline and somewhere a sparrow chirped lightly. Sunlight filtered down beneath the branches, illuminating and making softer, sweeter mist of the nearly permanent fog that rested over the land's pliable earth. Even Silence was only beginning to yawn herself into waking, and that changed in mere moments as a light grey blur rocketed along the pack's most northern border, big paws flying. This was in typical fashion for the young wolf, who took obvious pride in waking the forest for long summer days. His blood was up, his silver fur sleek, his tongue lolling. He was, in all forms, alive.
As he moved away from the wet, sinking marshes and headed north towards the forest, Bjorn found he was able to pull himself faster and faster. The hardness of the earth was such a contrast and he relished how it enabled such a flight, taken by the intrinsic motion of retracting and releasing. He forced his lungs to breathe deeper and his eyes narrowed in response, claws reaching ever further as he tore across the ground. And then, all at once, he stopped. Pushed his legs stiff, moved his head to the side and dropped low into a slight skid. Blistering to frigid. He was all stillness, all flexed muscle and pause. No movement. Slowly, Bjorn flicked his ears and pulled into a trot, glancing around curiously and then dismissively as he decided that he did in fact know where he was. On occasion, he would get lost on these morning excursions, confused by the bending and twisting scenery that was exclusive to the woods and marshes of his home. He'd wander in circles until a raven would feel obligated to help the young pup, chirping and croaking his way back to Chalandra and Nirco's safety. Other times, he'd be stuck to only whines and howls and the eventual hope that even Nirco himself would find and subsequently chastise him for being so careless. For days after he'd make sure to stay within reach of the pack until the itching sensation to lose himself again would be too much to resist. It was a cycle, although one that was becoming longer and longer. Bjorn was learning the land better as time went on, and the current record stood at just under half a moon since Chalandra had irritatingly been forced to save her soul-searching son from his wanderings.
Today however, was no such day. He was equally free and knowledgeable about this particular tract of land. Pleased with himself, Bjorn moved over a slight rise, immediately slipping into a crouch as he spotted a collection of grouse scattered out before him. He made move to furtively slink behind a nearby bristle bush and settled in, his blue eyes flashing as he watched and wiggled with excitement. Maybe he could try his paw at hunting alone. Although Nirco had allowed him to tail along on hunting parties, he hadn't exactly been much use. He found hunting to be a very odd game of running and pausing, running and pausing. The whole idea was a little absurd and try as Bjorn might, he struggled even in his most focused attempts. He felt the way Nirco looked at him in those moments. He felt it and it burned hot in his throat, coursed through his blood, and pricked anxieties in his self-confidence. Both Nirco's and Chalandra's hunting prowess had seemingly eluded him. With hope that maybe things would unfold differently, Bjorn lay in wait, his young mind trying to decipher what his next move should be.✧✧✧
Cutie needs a table header ugh. Also, i put him around 5-6 months because I really want to be able to play his growing up with Nirco and Chacha. <3
word count !