Past Can't Hold On [done]

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Things weren't the same anymore.

The tragic day that held onto his memory seared his mind, hooking sorroful claws into his meek soul, clasped there forever. His father was dead, at least in a physical sense, and the emotional wounds had yet to heal. The rest of the family seemed to be getting along from what he could perceive, but lately those connections had been slowly deteriorating as the deceased alpha's son pursued more and more solitary time, away from the pack. Shóuin was young, barely out of puppyhood, but his maturity level matched most adolescents'. He supposed this came from his being raised in a powerful family, but the weight of his bloodline hadn't been fully realized. And so he merely wandered, seeking unexplored sectors of Shinkou, trying to find himself in the reclusive recesses of natural wonders.

Dappled light filtered mistily between thick leaf coverage, early morning fog fluctuating ceaslessly in the air. Illuminated highlights reflected stubbornly off of Shóuin's creme pelt, the cerulean swirls standing out blatantly. His body wasn't quite fully matured, but it was beginning to show signs of following his mother's build, slim and muscular, built for agility and strength. The wolf had great potential to become powerful, but his disregard for magical ability had greatly reduced that chance. But the aura that crackled as he moved indicated there was still a seed of hope. A leg shifted, sapphire claws grasping soft earth to propell his towering form forward, sliding between dewy emerald foliage. There was nothing to do but proceed.

His wings were tucked closely against his sides, as if resisting the temptation to spread, blue and white plumage frosted with crystalline drops of moisture. His eyes peered steadily into the gloom, depths matching the hue of his silver crystal pendent, carved in the shape of a feather. Each line had been painstakingly made by some mystic process, but it shone mutedly with his inner power. Rarely used to its full potential, the amulet hibernated against his chest, almost hidden among his thick silky fur. This wasn't voluntary; as his mood darkened, also did his ability to grasp even the simplest spells. The beast sighed self-pityingly, continuing his slow jaunt through the woods. Alone.

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[Aveilthé]

An early morning stroll was all that Lothlórien's thoughts were
bent on, and perhaps a light snack to fill her three-day empty
belly. Only a few hours had she finally gotten some rest, for all
night long she had pulled a late-nighter by training herself in
manners of speed. She was not a fast wolf, and it took all her
will to muster just to master speed.

As it was morning, Lothlórien had to wake herself. She planned
herself a very strict schedule. Never to sleep in, always be up early
to greet the day. Yet at this moment, there was a light tinge of
grey in the fleshiest part of her eye sockets, giving a hint that
she was fatigued by lack of sleep.

Just as Lothlórien found herself by a brook, a distant sound caught
her attention. Hunching her shoulders and giving a soft huff
sound, she trotted intrepidly toward that source of noise, her
dark blue and lavendar eyes sparkling keenly.

"Who goes?" she cried from the thickets, keeping herself hidden
in case the unknown decided to be hostile. "Loafing wolf or
mischief-maker, if you are; step down into the light so that I may
see you, or flee to avoid any trouble with this tributary Alpha!"

If Lothlórien could read the aromas in the air, she would have
realized that it was none other than Shóuin, her deceased
leader's son. Unfortunately Shóuin was downwind anyway,
and the possibilities of scenting him was extremely low,
as well as the ability to see him as he was dillydallying in the
darker part of the woods.

[Deleted]

Or perhaps, not so alone.

A faint sound caught his attention, but it was soon dismissed as some sort of forest-dweller. Nothing potentially hamrful. But the noise's continuation raised his suspicions, so he prowled forward, body hunched in the way of stalking wolves, muscles tense. He was not at all fightened, but paranoia of being discovered by his family, wandering around when he should be doing something more productive, compelled him to investigate stealthily. If it did happen to be someone familiar, he would do nothing but beg for their forgiveness, and deal with whatever scolding happened to come along. Shóuin was often scolded, but he took the beratings stoically, because there was little else to do. Things were easier if he just laid down and let everything and everyone walk all over him. The young wolf acknowledged that he was easily manipulated, but that was shrugged off. What did it matter?

His keen gaze found the shape of an older female wolf, amongst a tanlge of underbrush, eyeing the darkness of the forest where he lay. Shóuin felt promplty guilty; he had been sulking after all. She looked familiar, as if he'd noticed her hanging around often. Maybe she had been a friend of his father's? His ears collided with his skull as the female shouted, in a mildly threatening voice. Whoever it was, they obviously hadn't yet recognized his scent, or perhaps couldn't. He tested the wind, and sure enough, he was down from her. A sigh rippled throughout his body, and he stepped forward into the stronger light, head bowed in a meek gesture. It's Shóuin. The half-greeting was muttered, in an almost self-loathing tone, and it was readily apparent that the young male was feeling rather antisocial. His gaze skipped around the small clearing, avoiding the female's harsh eyes. This was not soemthing he wished to deal with.

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[ooc] -prods-