OoC-
Well, we're going to start now, any unfilled positions are free to any willing members who wish to join. ;]
- - - - - - - - - -
The sun tore through the dense autumn canopy of the vast forest of Transylvania. Autumn was coming to an end, and every living creature could sense the changes on the wind. The many variety of trees were beginning to flare in a variety of reds, oranges and yellows, shedding their leaves when the chilly wind raked through their braches. The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky before a log black figure padded out of a hole in the side of a dried up riverbed. The creature yawned before stretching its long muscular legs and shaking its fur to rid of any of the debris that might have clung to his dark ebony coat.
Indeed this mysterious creature was a Varg, a wolf. He had just woken up to a new day, one in which he deemed a new start in life. He was at that age when young mature wolves left their birthpack in search of lone males or females to start their own family and pack. The idea just seemed right for this Dragga, because he felt as though he didn't fit in with his family anymore. Whether it be because he just never spend quality time with them like he should have or he just didn't feel that close family connection. Nevertheless, today he would be leaving the den in search for answers, answers that would greatly help him to live with the gift that he had been born with.
The Sight, a mysterious yet widely known power that was said to be a curse amongst the Varg, one in which could enslave all the Lera, or wildlife, and ultimately control the elements of Nature. No one know if any one wolf had successfully control the powers of the Sight, but a few have been known how to use it to their will. Tsinga, Tsar, Morgra, Larka, and Fell were well known throughout the land beyond the forest for their posession of the Sight. The majority of them knew how to properly use the power to help others and grow wise, but one had used it for evil. Morgra, the young male wolf's great aunt, had used the power of the Sight to control the darkness and spread rumors of the Evil One's return. In the end she had paid the price for her senile actions, but Larka, too, had fallen that one horrid evening at the Harja. In a despirate attemps to stop Morgra's plot to bring forth the Man Varg and the secret of Man, Larka, the black wolf's deceased aunt, had fallen to her demise, taking Morgra down with her.
Cael, the young male wolf whom was now sitting in the middle of the dried riverbed, pondered over the many myths and legends that revolved around the Sight. There was so much information to take in that he was unsure if he was truely ready to set out on his own. He lowered his gaze to his paws, feeling hopeless that he wouldn't be able to seek out help; however, there was one wolf whom he could go to before he would journey to find a place to call his own and to find a mate.
'Irina...' He growled to himself, feeling new hope flutter within his chest. It was now or never, and as Cael rose to all fours he was stopped in his tracks by a soft voice coming from behind him. As he turned around, he looked upon a slender female grey wolf padding out slowly from within the den. He grinned as she came up to his side before giving his face a thorough lick.
"Where are you going so early?" The female asked, a bit puzzled but knowingly understandable. It was mere instinct that she knew her son would be leaving the pack soon to start his own, but she was aware that he was also seeking clues and answers for the power he weild.
"I'm not sure. But if I ever want to get to where I'm supposed to be, I have to leave soon." Cael growled sullenly, bringin his black muzzle towards his mother's with affection. A part of him didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to.
"Well, I hope you find what you're looking for, Cael.""Me too..."The two sat together, gazing at the trees bursting with fiery colors and listening to birdsong abover their heads. Cael figured he'd wait for the rest of the family to wake before he departed, just to save them the hassle of grieving of him leaving without saying goodbye.
