Post by Dash on Jan 29, 2010 0:25:40 GMT -5
Despite everything that happened he was alone...
Why was he so alone though? He certainly pondered that question in a daily basis. He had been invited into a pack, he even had a chance at having a friend. Well, at least he thought he did until his social disease seemed to kick in. Social disease? What social disease? It was more like a lack of a social disease, he was perhaps the one that was too cautious. Yet he felt somewhat insulted, the way that female looked at him with fear in her eyes. The way her belly rubbed against the ground when he approached her. Was he so threatening that he couldn't be approached? He hadn't even known he had been watched the entire time. Yet he didn't feel watched, he felt studied. He disliked any sort of eye contact on him. He felt like something that was neither canine or even being in general. He felt as though he wasn't a physical entity at all actually.
Then what was he? Certainly having pups wasn't a necessity in life. Yet now that Daniel realized he could no longer have them, they seemed all but in reach for him. A goal that would never be achieved, his love, his life. Everything was gone...all be cause he had a physical deformity that he could not change. He felt, empty. As if everything in his lie of a life had been pointless. He had done nothing worth signaling an accomplishment. His studies of plants were simply a hobby, he felt no dire need to hunt nor even live half the time. He was impressively lazy and docile in that nature which was why he felt so insulted as to why females trembled around him. He didn't even dare give off the slightest impression that he was at all aggressive or even dominant. But one thing was for sure, he was feral. Timid and shy of any company within the area. He had blown any chance he had with befriending that female, he didn't even know her name.
What kind of male was he? A pitiful one honestly. He wasn't even a wolf. He was far too antisocial to be a wolf. He was a loner honestly, despite perhaps joining a pack he was always to be a loner at heart. No one truly needed him, all he did was heal those who were wounded with his extensive knowledge of plant life. Woo hoo he could live a life of being discarded after his services were no longer necessary. He had been wandering for a while actually, for no particular reason at all. Perhaps simply just to get away, he needed his space, and his air. And he found it now, his paws were gently against the flattened earth, the ground and footing was uneven causing a need for extensive analysis of the land before his paws before placing them forward as to avoid accidentally losing his footing and plummeting into the warm waters below. The sun was out and warming his soft white pelt, yet he did not wish to bask in it. In fact he wished to hide himself from it.
The shadows of the thick forest trees above him gave him sufficient places to snake away from the sun's gentle rays. Finally he made his way to the bank, the ground was solid but it felt muddy and sank to the pressure of his paws. He sighed to himself. What was he to do? Was he to go back and miserably have to succumb to the ideologies of pack life? Or was he to wander into the thick coating of mud and wallow? Both options seemed bleak. He enjoyed keeping his white pelt well kept, yet the mud felt ever so tempting. Easing his paws against the brown gook his legs were soon covered in a heavy blotch of encrusted dirt as the sun dried the soil against him he made his way to the swamp's edge. He crumpled forward. His tail slick with silt rested beside him as he stared into his reflection. A few speckles of dirt seemed to have flicked their way onto his face. His eyes narrowed as he skidded his paw into the reflection disrupting it.
He hated himself. Everything about himself he hated. As the ripples were swallowed by the stilled water he saw a fish's tail flick against the surface. It was then that his natural instinct to hunt encased his mind. It didn't take him long to pluck himself from the filthy cushion of goop and plunge into the murky waters below. His mouth clamping at the mirage of water a few times until he was successful. The water was just above his chin as he peddled himself to the safety of the bank as the creature thrashed for life. His canines sinking into the flesh of the silent animal as the air suffocated the life from it he finally made his way back onto the bank dripping and soaking wet he flopped onto the bank as the fish finally lost the losing battle between life and death. He spat the carcass out against his muddied paws scrapping his harsh tongue against the scales as the fresh water dripped from his muzzle he attempted to find an entrance into his kill.
Why was he so alone though? He certainly pondered that question in a daily basis. He had been invited into a pack, he even had a chance at having a friend. Well, at least he thought he did until his social disease seemed to kick in. Social disease? What social disease? It was more like a lack of a social disease, he was perhaps the one that was too cautious. Yet he felt somewhat insulted, the way that female looked at him with fear in her eyes. The way her belly rubbed against the ground when he approached her. Was he so threatening that he couldn't be approached? He hadn't even known he had been watched the entire time. Yet he didn't feel watched, he felt studied. He disliked any sort of eye contact on him. He felt like something that was neither canine or even being in general. He felt as though he wasn't a physical entity at all actually.
Then what was he? Certainly having pups wasn't a necessity in life. Yet now that Daniel realized he could no longer have them, they seemed all but in reach for him. A goal that would never be achieved, his love, his life. Everything was gone...all be cause he had a physical deformity that he could not change. He felt, empty. As if everything in his lie of a life had been pointless. He had done nothing worth signaling an accomplishment. His studies of plants were simply a hobby, he felt no dire need to hunt nor even live half the time. He was impressively lazy and docile in that nature which was why he felt so insulted as to why females trembled around him. He didn't even dare give off the slightest impression that he was at all aggressive or even dominant. But one thing was for sure, he was feral. Timid and shy of any company within the area. He had blown any chance he had with befriending that female, he didn't even know her name.
What kind of male was he? A pitiful one honestly. He wasn't even a wolf. He was far too antisocial to be a wolf. He was a loner honestly, despite perhaps joining a pack he was always to be a loner at heart. No one truly needed him, all he did was heal those who were wounded with his extensive knowledge of plant life. Woo hoo he could live a life of being discarded after his services were no longer necessary. He had been wandering for a while actually, for no particular reason at all. Perhaps simply just to get away, he needed his space, and his air. And he found it now, his paws were gently against the flattened earth, the ground and footing was uneven causing a need for extensive analysis of the land before his paws before placing them forward as to avoid accidentally losing his footing and plummeting into the warm waters below. The sun was out and warming his soft white pelt, yet he did not wish to bask in it. In fact he wished to hide himself from it.
The shadows of the thick forest trees above him gave him sufficient places to snake away from the sun's gentle rays. Finally he made his way to the bank, the ground was solid but it felt muddy and sank to the pressure of his paws. He sighed to himself. What was he to do? Was he to go back and miserably have to succumb to the ideologies of pack life? Or was he to wander into the thick coating of mud and wallow? Both options seemed bleak. He enjoyed keeping his white pelt well kept, yet the mud felt ever so tempting. Easing his paws against the brown gook his legs were soon covered in a heavy blotch of encrusted dirt as the sun dried the soil against him he made his way to the swamp's edge. He crumpled forward. His tail slick with silt rested beside him as he stared into his reflection. A few speckles of dirt seemed to have flicked their way onto his face. His eyes narrowed as he skidded his paw into the reflection disrupting it.
He hated himself. Everything about himself he hated. As the ripples were swallowed by the stilled water he saw a fish's tail flick against the surface. It was then that his natural instinct to hunt encased his mind. It didn't take him long to pluck himself from the filthy cushion of goop and plunge into the murky waters below. His mouth clamping at the mirage of water a few times until he was successful. The water was just above his chin as he peddled himself to the safety of the bank as the creature thrashed for life. His canines sinking into the flesh of the silent animal as the air suffocated the life from it he finally made his way back onto the bank dripping and soaking wet he flopped onto the bank as the fish finally lost the losing battle between life and death. He spat the carcass out against his muddied paws scrapping his harsh tongue against the scales as the fresh water dripped from his muzzle he attempted to find an entrance into his kill.
