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Cow Horse Chic said
Also just to verify I don't intend for anyone really to know Niall until now.
Would be hard, then, because you just so happen to appear just as the dead bodies arrive.
Posted.
Walker voted "grumpiest git in the muttpack".
Walker voted "grumpiest git in the muttpack".
It hurt.
If everyone else thought they'd have fun playing hide and seek, then let them, Walker didn't give a damn. He pressed his muzzle onto the opened tube of antiseptic cream, and pressed his lips to the foul smelling substance to slowly and clumsily smear it over his shoulders where the lines of red oozed blood like glittering rubies in the light of the full moon.
Let them, let them. Walker didn't care.
He dragged his sore body to a black, smooth pond and washed his muzzle in the still waters. His eyes narrowed at the filthy amber ones glaring back at him...the burst of endorphins made him restless, a bloodlust pounding through his veins but his mind was holding him back, making his body shudder with the physical strain of remaining still.
Walker didn't like his wolf side, the pair of them didn't get along well. The transformation was, is and will be incredibly painful; more so because of his wolf's urge to escape, driving him to the point of digging his nails into his flesh and beating himself up just to transform. He always got so...angry, as if his years of being the weakest were his fault, and his body held the scars from the Pack and from himself and from other beasts.
Walker put his nose to the air and sniffed. He could make out each and every scent, and the origin of every one. His keen eyes cut through the night and made out tracks and disturbed vegetation, trails leading to rabbits, deer, mice. Walker took some time to get up and hunt down a nest of rabbits, killing the parents with a swipe of the paw, devouring the younglings nearly whole. He felt the hot blood pour down his throat, the bones crunch in his powerful jaws, the fur from the skin tickling his nose as he ate everything and left no edible parts behind.
Full and with sated bloodlust, Walker limped back to the pond and howled. It was a bitter, mournful wolfsong; the melody of Walker, reverberating through the misty treetops. He didn't use telepathy, he actively blocked it out, refused people access to his mind. If they wanted to find him, he'd reveal his location when and where he likes and let them come.
His howl was his challenge - come find me, it taunted.
If everyone else thought they'd have fun playing hide and seek, then let them, Walker didn't give a damn. He pressed his muzzle onto the opened tube of antiseptic cream, and pressed his lips to the foul smelling substance to slowly and clumsily smear it over his shoulders where the lines of red oozed blood like glittering rubies in the light of the full moon.
Let them, let them. Walker didn't care.
He dragged his sore body to a black, smooth pond and washed his muzzle in the still waters. His eyes narrowed at the filthy amber ones glaring back at him...the burst of endorphins made him restless, a bloodlust pounding through his veins but his mind was holding him back, making his body shudder with the physical strain of remaining still.
Walker didn't like his wolf side, the pair of them didn't get along well. The transformation was, is and will be incredibly painful; more so because of his wolf's urge to escape, driving him to the point of digging his nails into his flesh and beating himself up just to transform. He always got so...angry, as if his years of being the weakest were his fault, and his body held the scars from the Pack and from himself and from other beasts.
Walker put his nose to the air and sniffed. He could make out each and every scent, and the origin of every one. His keen eyes cut through the night and made out tracks and disturbed vegetation, trails leading to rabbits, deer, mice. Walker took some time to get up and hunt down a nest of rabbits, killing the parents with a swipe of the paw, devouring the younglings nearly whole. He felt the hot blood pour down his throat, the bones crunch in his powerful jaws, the fur from the skin tickling his nose as he ate everything and left no edible parts behind.
Full and with sated bloodlust, Walker limped back to the pond and howled. It was a bitter, mournful wolfsong; the melody of Walker, reverberating through the misty treetops. He didn't use telepathy, he actively blocked it out, refused people access to his mind. If they wanted to find him, he'd reveal his location when and where he likes and let them come.
His howl was his challenge - come find me, it taunted.
Well then, problem solved right? They don't have to see eye to eye all of the time but Walker seriously needs protecting as it is. He is probably weaker than Luca.
tsubasa said
I don't think Ivan would really give two shits about Walker. I mean, he is older and stronger. But I feel like that would be a good strain in the group.
I wouldn't have Ivan actively dislike Walker though. If anything, they could be friends but regularly make fun of their views...but is the founder didn't like Walker, he'd bugger off at the first possible moment and turn the pack on them, helping our buddy who is framing us in the first place.
it wouldn't be a good strain at all. Walker can handle any other person hating him, but if big boss Ivan made his life hell, Walker wouldn't feel remotely bad about ruining the whole team. And for me, that's not an option.
So I'm accepted, does this mean the pack see Walker as an authority figure? I do plan for him to be the smart guy, not the leader...but it still holds some form of power over the others, even if it's minor.
Right, that's my first draft; all written on a touch screen, sorry. I'm aiming for a sort of 'chief advisor' role here, someone who you'd look to for wisdom. A very intelligent, observant man with quick reactions to match his quick puzzle-solving. The drawback? Physically quite weak.
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