There he stood, atop a boulder, surveying the surrounding area. This was familiar territory to him, one which brought nostalgic memories. He grinned, knowing that this deserted place was still a place where he can call home. He leaps down and sniffs the air as if searching for something. The lone Wox walks towards a tree scarred with past fights, fights that he was a part of. Slowly he places a claw on the trunk of the huge pine and closes his good eye. He edges away and removes his katana from his side, there was no need for it at a place like this. To him this was sacred ground, one in which terror should and cannot touch anymore.
Memories rush at him like waves from a raging sea … memories that only he and a handful of others can share. A smile creeps upon his lips and a new strength builds up in him. No longer was he the reckless youngster who gallivanted around the guild, trying to be the person everyone admired and wanted to be with. Time and hardships changed that … times of being a loner, the hardships of seeing friends disappear.
=the wind blows through the empty halls and rooms, moaning with what seemed like sorrow and remorse for days gone by=
The clouds make room for the moon and the moonlight shines upon the ground. The Wox eyes his home, past and present. He knew he belonged here, and here he was going to preside. He was Wox, loyal to his friends and guild … and the last known in this current time and place. He was home.
Memories rush at him like waves from a raging sea … memories that only he and a handful of others can share. A smile creeps upon his lips and a new strength builds up in him. No longer was he the reckless youngster who gallivanted around the guild, trying to be the person everyone admired and wanted to be with. Time and hardships changed that … times of being a loner, the hardships of seeing friends disappear.
=the wind blows through the empty halls and rooms, moaning with what seemed like sorrow and remorse for days gone by=
The clouds make room for the moon and the moonlight shines upon the ground. The Wox eyes his home, past and present. He knew he belonged here, and here he was going to preside. He was Wox, loyal to his friends and guild … and the last known in this current time and place. He was home.
