Post by Rasthur Grassrunner on Nov 23, 2008 17:42:09 GMT -5
((XD...Indeed Will, a very Champion/Abbot kind of thing to say to the would be younger generation.))
The fox was dogging in the Champion's footsteps at a short distance, without a wall or stone to keep his paw on, the most he had was his hearing and his walking stick to ensure that he made it somewhat safely to his destination.
The steps were a painful and near epic journey for the senile old creature, with every step he felt that he had guessed correctly, he kicked the tip of the stone only to curse out loud. Many of his comments involved the original creators of the Abbey and the many things he would do to them when given the chance - suggestions for improvement of the Abbey were not any of them.
Eventually, he completed his would be journey to the top, the scent of the two whom he had conversed with for what felt like a season still lingered on the wind slightly, albeit mingled with the smells of the Abbey.
His past in the horde is something he wants to forget, The foxes ears twitched, the voice was faint, but he could make out what was being said and now his internal compass now had a bearing to follow,
but instead of memories he is reminded about it every day when he wakes up,
,
Rasthur clenched his teeth slightly and felt his paws instinctively grip his cane tighter, so he had the Champion's pity now,
The voice was now louder as he drew ever closer, his nose twitched annoyingly, the smell of many beasts were mingled in the air here, but if the smell hadn't given away what he was in for, the sounds would.
"H'oi! I's mister Rasthur!" Came the cry of a young Mouse, not intimidated at all by the fox that was often the subject of horror stories amongst the dibbuns. The fox ignored him, he had more pressing issues to deal with,
so I can only imagine what he has to remember when he thinks about it. It must tear him up sometimes.
"Believe me. You have no idea." He spoke in the direction to which he assumed the pair to be in, this was by far was probably one of the more truthful statements he had made. The only memories he had of seeing the world; was when it was stained in blood.
The fox was dogging in the Champion's footsteps at a short distance, without a wall or stone to keep his paw on, the most he had was his hearing and his walking stick to ensure that he made it somewhat safely to his destination.
The steps were a painful and near epic journey for the senile old creature, with every step he felt that he had guessed correctly, he kicked the tip of the stone only to curse out loud. Many of his comments involved the original creators of the Abbey and the many things he would do to them when given the chance - suggestions for improvement of the Abbey were not any of them.
Eventually, he completed his would be journey to the top, the scent of the two whom he had conversed with for what felt like a season still lingered on the wind slightly, albeit mingled with the smells of the Abbey.
His past in the horde is something he wants to forget, The foxes ears twitched, the voice was faint, but he could make out what was being said and now his internal compass now had a bearing to follow,
but instead of memories he is reminded about it every day when he wakes up,
,
Rasthur clenched his teeth slightly and felt his paws instinctively grip his cane tighter, so he had the Champion's pity now,
The voice was now louder as he drew ever closer, his nose twitched annoyingly, the smell of many beasts were mingled in the air here, but if the smell hadn't given away what he was in for, the sounds would.
"H'oi! I's mister Rasthur!" Came the cry of a young Mouse, not intimidated at all by the fox that was often the subject of horror stories amongst the dibbuns. The fox ignored him, he had more pressing issues to deal with,
so I can only imagine what he has to remember when he thinks about it. It must tear him up sometimes.
"Believe me. You have no idea." He spoke in the direction to which he assumed the pair to be in, this was by far was probably one of the more truthful statements he had made. The only memories he had of seeing the world; was when it was stained in blood.
)