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 Posted: Tue Dec 25, 2007 7:45 pm
 Scritch, Scritch, Scritch...
Black nails drug themselves against the rough, wooded surface of the bark, creating deep crevices in the tree trunk. There was no rhyme or reason to this strange marking of the wooded pines, simply....scratching.
All around there were these odd marks, seeming to be in a circle of sorts surrounding a wolf. A ragged one he was, not in appearance though. The coat seemed pristine and un-matted, but the look in the male's eyes was old. Older than it's time, it seemed. Somehow, off. But how could eyes be off, that was such a strange thought. They just, were.
That odd, eerie yellow gaze that seemed to pierce through and drift off at the same time, that well bright yet dull. And they belonged to the wolf with the more beautiful teal-furred coat, tribal markings wrapped around him.
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Posted: Tue Dec 25, 2007 8:00 pm
 Mismatched silver and cerulean irises were narrowed into a dark glare as a ragged form carried itself through the dark, dense forest, brushing irritably at foliage that seemed to attach itself to her ivorn coat as she passed. There was no real surprise that the female was in such a foul mood- she'd been this way for as long as she could remember- but it was especially angry today, for whatever reason even she could not pinpoint.
How long had it been since she'd laid her seeing eye on one of her own kind? Weeks? Months, perhaps? Her wounds were well on their way to being healed, but the scars would remain forever- perhaps that was what irked her so. No, she was not as vain as to fret about her soiled appearance- but the scars went deeper than her hide, whether she would have liked to admit it or not. No, the scars that upset her were the ones no eye could see.
A snort followed her increasingly sentimental thoughts as she came to an abrupt halt, delicately scenting the air as she realized she was not alone.
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Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2007 2:29 pm
The odd bush rustling from a ways away fell upon deaf ears as, claws curling as they dug into the flesh of the trees carved abstract crevices. Murmuring to himself the male lept upon another tree as soon as the first was finished, jawls opened and a low snarl escaping his lips at the agressing piece of scenery.
Once front paws, raw and red from sharpening and activities like this, hit the tree the anger seemed to fade, turning into a look of sick determination. As paws dug into the wood and drug themselves down his back would arch, tail stiff and eyes seeming to glaze over.
Over and over he did this odd yet strangely captivating display, until all around him the trees bore fresh, cold scars of his work.
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