Patrolling. <i>Always</i> patrolling... Never skipping a beat. Never straying from one routine to the next. Tonight, Borden was particularly keen on reaching a particular spot of the territory. It was nothing special when someone not apart of the family gazed upon it, but the ancient, hollow tree had once been the birthplace of his first two sons and first-born daughter. Images of their faces - at only a few months old, jumped out at him as he sauntered along, causing him to stop dead in his tracks and search his immediate surroundings for the three children that had grown up in his absence.
An almost ghostly masked face flaunting blue, nearly vivid gold eyes peered out from behind a tree before disappearing.
<i>Prosper</i>.
Borden's eyes widened, but he shook his head and glanced over his shoulder before taking a step forward and continuing to walk along the invisible fence that separated Grizzly Hollow and the realm of Relic Lore beyond it. Prosper was gone... and he <i>had been</i> since the day the boy wandered too far away from home. His throat tightened uncomfortably and from the corner of his eye a flash of ivory fur, freckled with mud caught his attention. <i>Hocus</i>. A low growl lifted from his throat and he fought to keep his lips sealed, trying hard to not call for the boy to return.
Wandering along he made an attempt to pick up his pace. After roughly ten steps the resonance of girlish, almost mischievous, laughter and a glimpse of amber eyes, framed by stark gray fur, made him stop abruptly again.
<b>"Trisden!"</b>
He jumped back as the name left his mouth, startling not just himself but the doves that had taken perch above him. His eyes wildly scanned the forest, straining to take in the spaces between all the trees. He bounded forward, heading toward the place where he thought he had heard the girl giggle. He stopped again and steadied himself. His heart raced inside his chest. No one answered. No one, not even Trisden, appeared in the five minutes that had passed.
Perhaps he missed them. Perhaps insomnia was starting to drag him down. Maybe... even <i>both</i>. Ultimately disheartened, the leader carried onward, quietly marking trees and other prominent markers - boulders tucked away into the brush, towering hedges and low-lying shrubs, the sides of fallen logs. Wherever his earthen, cedar-infused scent had faded away in the past three days, he made sure to <span class='word'>vamp</span> up the spot. Though his dark ears laid back along his ruff and his tail held steady behind him, he crept through the woodland, trusting that his feet and muscle memory would guide him to where his heart ached to go.</blockquote>
(This post was last modified: Jul 09, 2012, 07:16 AM by Borden.)