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 Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 6:16 pm
It was a warm sunny day out in the dense woods where the old varg known as Rove lived along side of a growing pack. He hadn't meant to settle down, but he had little choice in the matter once the Drappa learned of him. Rove had managed to get himself away from his Drappa's adopted pups for a bit of rest at last, after a lot of maneuvering and assurances that he knew precisely where he was going. He could picture the look on Cohl's face as her mother forced her to stay behind and not follow after her mentor. With a sigh, he settled down on a soft patch of earth and gave himself a good roll, feeling dirt and leaves shuffle around and work their way into his tough coat.
As his surroundings settled he just lay there, feeling the warmth of the sun that broke through the tree's above on his side. It was most definitely a good day for him.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 7:40 pm
 Aiden skittered nervously around the borders of Akari’s pack-to-be. The pack was not official, was just beginning to form, actually, and had no real set borders save for the imaginary ones he saw in his mind’s eye. The Drappa was a kind female who he had met a once or twice before, and had seemed nice enough. But despite that, he was reluctant to cross and go to Rove, the reddish-brown male who had once been a strong warrior before an attack blinded him and left his muscles damaged.
He was now more of a storyteller, which Aiden thought was just as good. Stories were, after all, an important part of growing up. Most every pack treasured storytellers for the lessons they taught the pups of the pack and the wisdom they held. Aiden, too, heard these tales (although much later on in life, for he had grown up in a human's home, not a Varg's den), ranging from the most well-known such as how Fenris and Tor made the Varg to stories that were made up on the spot. He himself was not capable of such a thing (he stuttered too often and grew so nervous he not only forgot and ruined the story he would try to tell, but ensured he would be the laughingstock of all who heard, as well), nor was he a pup, but that didn’t mean he did not appreciate them. No, listening to stories was one of the few things he truly enjoyed in life, and that was enough for him to finally convince him to trot over to the battle-worn male.
“Hello,” he called, keeping at a respectful distance. “D-do you, um… remember me?” he asked tentatively, nervously pawing at the floor and hoping the male would remember their previous encounter and not mistake him to be a potential threat to the pack.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 8:11 pm
Rove twitched his ears, angling them at the new arrival before leaning his head up to turn in the general direction of the voice, speaking with a slightly gravely voice. "Yeah I think I recall you, that shy Varg who sits with my Drappa's pups to hear stories," he leaned himself up more so he was resting on his belly. "I think you introduced yourself as Aiden before, am I right?" He could recall the varg rather clearly from the sound of his voice and his scent, and wasn't too startled by his sudden appearance in the middle of the woods, but he still wished as he always did that he had his vision.
Rove made no move to get to his feet, but he tried to find a position that he felt was facing the timid Varg and tried to keep his body postured as calm as possible so he wouldn't spook him. "What can I do for you today; I'm afraid I'm without my entourage of the drappa's adopted pups."
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Posted: Wed May 12, 2010 8:40 pm
Aiden breathed a sigh of relief at the male’s words, and he nodded in response. This, however, he paused as soon as he remembered the battle-worn male was no longer able to see, and he felt a pang of regret. He only hoped his mistake had been unnoticed.
“That’s r-right,” he replied, a little late. “And you’re… Rove?”
Aiden noticed that Rove was right, and the pups were nowhere in sight. He had thought they would be close by. Hidden, perhaps, or off for a bit, but that didn’t seem to be the case. This realization came with some sadness, for he had grown fond of the little bundles. They had been the one to introduce him to Rove, whom he would never have met otherwise, and seemed just as interested in stories as he.
But that didn’t make Rove’s stories any less great, and he shifted nervously, too shy too ask. But he had come this far, hadn’t he? He couldn’t just leave. And so, finally, he admitted his request. “I was wondering if you could tell me a story.”
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Posted: Sun May 30, 2010 11:04 am
Rove nodded slowly. "Yes... I figured that's what you'd be here for. That's what all the young ones stop for. What should I tell to you today? The ladies aren't here to influence your tastes, and I have nothing by time ahead of me." He remained in his comfortable position laying in the grass with the sound of leaves fluttering above his head. He wondered a little upon what the shy varg would ask to hear. Would he want a tale of mythical adventure, a story of the gods, or would he prefer to hear the past, and of the times when Rove himself was charging about like a mighty hero. It was always hard to tell the tastes of the young.
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Posted: Fri Jun 04, 2010 9:40 pm
"I like any story," Aiden said, growing chipper and a tad braver since his request had been accepted. "Even the scary ones," he admitted, with some pride in his voice. To a coward like him, such a fact was one he could be proud of, although others might not have thought of it the same way.
"Is there any you wanted to tell?" he asked, lying down as well and scooting a little closer, ears pressed forward with eagerness.
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