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Viewing Single Post From: Of Moonlight, Curses, and a Valley
Kasuin
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The Sublime Overlord of the Realm
Dmitri, finished with his circular digging, panted quietly. The dirt was thickly caked between his fingers and the coolness of it was soothing even if his skin was starting to feel prickly. He gave himself a shake, loosening up the fur of his coat. Only so much time...

He turned back to look at the others, not far away at all. I'll get sticks. Without waiting for an answer he bounded up the hillside into a patch of thicker, scrawny trees and brush plants clinging there for life and livelihood. The werewolf's nose was neither needed nor useful for finding wood, but he sniffed the earth and the trees, trying to get a scent of where he was going to. Higher was all he told himself. He picked up sticks in his mouth as he scouted about on all fours. It sat rough across his thick tongue, cutting it enough that he could taste his own blood mixing with his saliva. It was just a little, a small distraction from task at hand and his own preparations. There wasn't a lot of wood that had fallen off of the trees, but freshly cut branches would have been too wet for their fire needs. Though they would burn, they'd give off too much smoke which would allow anyone in the area to know they were there. And he couldn't... He shook his head vigorously, clearing the thought.

It wasn't long before the werewolf came bounding back, his arms held a small bundle of wood. It had been all that he could find nearby and wouldn't even last the whole night. They would need to sleep close together for warmth. Keira probably wouldn't like that. She was always bristling around Elle when the other woman came near even if it was for caretaking purposes. Even the girl bug relied on Elle more than Keira. It was a disjointed pack... He shook the thoughts aside and set the wood into the circle that he had dug earlier. Wood. I... It's not enough. I will look for more. He looked at Keira, a sadness written there in his eyes. The darkness was moving in swiftly, a breeze rolling back the clouds, pushing them towards the quickly fading light in the horizon.
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Of Moonlight, Curses, and a Valley · Steepwind Valley


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