- marking
Of Irish-Gaelic Orgin
Means "Little Blackbird"
Lonán barely registered the early morning chill in the wind that ruffled his mane. Subconsciously, he could feel his neck stiffen at the change in temperature, but he simply dozed on. At this point in his life, he just had to learn how to not react to such constant stimuli– his instincts, however, had no problem with snapping him awake as the wind shifted the leaves and cool light escaped through the canopy and onto him. One eye lazily opened to reveal an electric blue orb, dim with exhaustion, and the spikes along his spine started to shift long before Lonán worked up the energy to move his limbs. The moss and earth underneath him felt clammy as he rolled over onto his side and slowly let the gears in his head turn.
The events of the previous day remained lost to Lonán for several minutes as he gathered his bearings. His eyes brightened with understanding as he recalled the down-to-earth coyote pair who helped tend to his wounds. Testing his hind-leg out with a slight shake, Lonán could only feel the barest hints of stiffness from the now week-old bruise. A warm flush of gratitude served to warm his chest though he didn’t show it. The pair readily rescued him from that ravine that acted as his prison for a solid three days, and only asked for his protection in return. How they dragged him out in the first place, Lonán still doesn’t know. He’s easily three times larger than the bigger of the pair, but he can’t help but feel unsurprised. The way the two systematically ripped apart that cougar on the third day after the rescue was, by far, the most morbid and amazing thing Lonán has ever seen. Why did they ask him to guard them again?
Shaking his head from his wandering thoughts, Lonán’s nostrils flared as he scented the air. He couldn’t help the pang of disappointment at the stale, oaken scent of the two coyotes. Much like him, the two were strictly nomadic and solitary, and no matter how amicable they all were during the prior week, Lonán soon became antsy even within their makeshift group. The two smaller canines shared the same sentiments. The warmth present at his flank the previous night was now absent, but Lonán resigned himself to their silent goodbye. As his own personal farewell, he pressed his muzzle into the grass where the scent of the pair was the strongest and rubbed his cheek and spiky mane into the moss to mingle the scents of all three of them. The ritual was habitual of Lonán whenever he encountered canines who he split with on good terms. His mother did always teach him to show appreciation where it’s due.
Lonán then promptly stood to stretch. He sighed in relief as his muscles rippled pleasantly under his brindled pelt, and for just a moment, he let his mane flare out to almost twice its size, and the luster of the spikes caught the light and created a soft aura of light around him. The feeling finally brought a smile to his face, and for just this moment in time, his clear gaze became warm with content.
However, Lonán soon smoothed out his features and stood up to look out into the depths of the forest, in the opposite direction of his two temporary companions. The uncertainty of where he would end up in the coming days barely fazed him; underneath his calm, an innate, quiet determination to continue on despite any obstacles he might face kept his gaze trained constantly ahead of him.
Story is roughly 600 words.
Backgrounds are definitely not one of my strong points, though I did try to make it look atmospheric. The spiky mane was the hardest part, so I'm not entirely sure how you do it, ShadowWolf. ;w; Magic probably.
Congrats to the winner of this one!~
ShadowWolf~ wrote:1 Day reminder.
uvu
If more time is needed please let me know.
Painted~Wolf wrote:ShadowWolf~ wrote:1 Day reminder.
uvu
If more time is needed please let me know.
I feel like I'm barging in and asking for an extesnion at the last minute, but I would really like to enter. May the end date for this be moved to March 19th?
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