Apples are blue.

[Craven Undavarie]

((#TooLazyForTable.

Lel. :3))

Here I come alone.

Colors of red painted the horizon as the sun disappeared behind the mountain, it's shape outlined in bright yellow and casting a great shadow on the barren landscape. A single tree frozen in time sparkled as the dying suns rays glinted off the withered branches. It was a beautiful sight, the shadows and highlights created by the sun turning the simple land into one of a sudden complexity.  Green eyes looked out from beside the tree of ice, the colors of the sky painted within the confines of the silver like mirrors. 

Death had followed Craven like a disease, a parasite desperately clinging to it's host. He could not shake the overwhelming dread that his luck seemed to bring him. Dead were his parents, dead were his siblings, dead were his friends and dead were his leaders. He had watched helplessly from the sidelines as his leader and dear father was crushed and devoured by the ice and the snow, doomed to lie buried forever beneath the barren and isolated mountains. He had known little of his past but he had heard the stories, the ones that had taken him to here and away from the treacherous and deceitful reign of his father. 

Putting his eyes to the night sky now dotted with stars and a low hanging moon he was now wanting to howl He returned his gaze to the tree, here he felt safe, here he found a sanctuary where he prayed to the goddess Arnonia in silent prayers of hope for his new pack. Though Craven himself was like his father, he still strived to be a better leader. With the same morals, but just be careful to hide his faults from his pack. He prayed for them to never figure that part of him out.
Bringing the new order.

[Deleted]

yechta

Yechta was watching the sun sink somewhat nearby, another one of the universes wonders kissing the earth goodbye in a beautiful final dance. Painted fingers of color etching intricate abstract designs into the fading sky. Her ears perked and her senses tingled as she caught the foreign scent of another wolf - sharing her horizon.

Yechta turned her head, ears swiveling like a doe attempting to pick up a nearby predator though. No matter who, Yechta was not afraid - no, she would love another star child to join her in her company.

The black she-wolf scanned her surroundings and in a heartbeat her heterochromatics caught the foreigner. Pack scent, dominant, she wondered if he was an alpha or a beta? What role did he play here? Perhaps, being as he was alone, he was a newly kicked out or leaving wolf? She wasn't sure she cared enough to move from her comfortable and beautiful view and ask.

Instead, the she-wolf closed her eyes and threw her head back - letting out a long and somewhat soft howl in invitation. She didn't want to disturb this peaceful setting, rather co-exist with it. Piercing howls were annoying anyway.

notes: Yechta is lazy as hell
words: 204

[Craven Undavarie]

Although the sun was setting, he did not prepare for slumber. He did not sleep; there was no desire. Meditation replaced deep slumber as months passed. Allowed better control over himself, sea-waves of powerful emotions twisting his desires to extremes. A fanged yawn took away heavy thoughts. Dew, grass and fern coated the back of his tongue and he licked his dark lips with pleased smirk. His mind settled. He rose and stretched with a satisfied grunt as spine popped and muscles flex and relaxed. Aimless, needless of direction, he started at a variant of north-west, more west than north. His steps weaved slowly, a random noise rushing past ivory teeth every few paces, bored. The mane wold halted and turned, hearing the soft noise of a howl. 

Smooth, infinite tenor touched his mind, even though the howl was anything but threatening. Craven Undaviere grinned, tail shifting in amusement, his path now continued towards the mystery elle. What was to be found on this fading day? Touches of melancholic concern began to lick the back of his mind, and he stepped beside the black female while jovial arise still held his conscious.
The mane wolf sat down, still rather tall. He said nothing. Craven expected that she would be the one to start the conversation, if there was to be any. He did not wonder about the elle as he sat watching the sky, only of flowers. He could only seem to think of flowers.