Character name: Towser Lyall
How long your character has been in Relic Lore: Couple weeks (since Feb. 3rd)
Post prompt response:
February 22nd; Morning; Overcast Clouds; 42.71° F, 5.95° C.
Towser wasn't sure why he had left the stranger after they had survived the sudden rainstorm. For roughly a week, he lurked and watched. Those he saw, he only caught glimpses of. There were a dozen bits of conversation that didn't make sense. Fur patterns were memorized but had to be filled in with imagination when trees blocked his view. The borders seemed to be traversed on a regular timetable and he hid whenever possible. The only one he recognized was Toklo, but he was too out of sorts to even say 'hello.' So much had happened since then.
He winced as his stomach gave a rumble. No wolf should've been able to function like this. Hungry to the point of malnourishment and fatigue. Shaky with his winter coat already coming out in tufts. His father would have been disappointed to see his only son in such a state. It was neither becoming nor Lyall-like. He had grown up on unforgiving terrain and should have known how to handle himself better.
His trembling head lifted with an almost booming bark. Muscle and energy might have been lost, but his voice had always kept with him.
A few blinks and she was there, a tawny woman presumed to be the pack Leader. She asked him why he had come and Towser stood in silence for a moment before answering. "I've come to find my calling, like my forebears before me." There was a lilt in his tone, a tiredness that was only heartened by a drive to survive. "I have only heard stories, imagined this wilderness... and I want to be a part of it." There was a small twitch to his now ragged tail. "I also happened to come across a packmate of yours and I actually wanted to make sure he was all right."
How long your character has been in Relic Lore: Couple weeks (since Feb. 3rd)
Post prompt response:
February 22nd; Morning; Overcast Clouds; 42.71° F, 5.95° C.
Towser wasn't sure why he had left the stranger after they had survived the sudden rainstorm. For roughly a week, he lurked and watched. Those he saw, he only caught glimpses of. There were a dozen bits of conversation that didn't make sense. Fur patterns were memorized but had to be filled in with imagination when trees blocked his view. The borders seemed to be traversed on a regular timetable and he hid whenever possible. The only one he recognized was Toklo, but he was too out of sorts to even say 'hello.' So much had happened since then.
He winced as his stomach gave a rumble. No wolf should've been able to function like this. Hungry to the point of malnourishment and fatigue. Shaky with his winter coat already coming out in tufts. His father would have been disappointed to see his only son in such a state. It was neither becoming nor Lyall-like. He had grown up on unforgiving terrain and should have known how to handle himself better.
His trembling head lifted with an almost booming bark. Muscle and energy might have been lost, but his voice had always kept with him.
A few blinks and she was there, a tawny woman presumed to be the pack Leader. She asked him why he had come and Towser stood in silence for a moment before answering. "I've come to find my calling, like my forebears before me." There was a lilt in his tone, a tiredness that was only heartened by a drive to survive. "I have only heard stories, imagined this wilderness... and I want to be a part of it." There was a small twitch to his now ragged tail. "I also happened to come across a packmate of yours and I actually wanted to make sure he was all right."