Twigleg
I Brute I Spying on Ivy I Northern Field I
The cool wind blew through Twigleg's scraggly pelt, causing the brute to shiver noticeably. The thick roan overcoat blew back lightly revealing the softer shades of brown underneath. Though an air confidence seemed to blow around the multicolored brute he was desperately saddened by the events of the past moon. Lowering his skinny frame down into the depths of a white snow-drift he sat he heaved a sigh as he plopped his long, pointed muzzle atop his forepaws. He closed his ice-blue eyes slowly as he caught one last glimpse of the white landscape before him. A peaceful rest in the dull sunshine would be quite becoming of him. After a few brief moments of drifting in between sleep and being awake Twigleg's left ear shot up in alarm as a gentle breeze blew the unmistakable scent of another wolf towards him. He rose quickly to his paws, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He scented the air again and came to the frightening realization that the stranger was coming closer. He slunk through the undergrowth and tall grasses trying to catch a glimpse of their strange newcomer. He relaxed a little knowing that he was downwind of the other wolf and therefore he wouldn't be easy to scent out.
Though Twigleg had been a formidable fighter the last three years of being beat into his place by his half brother had broken his spirit. The raging fires both of nature and of hate hadn't just claimed his voice but they had also claimed his thick pelt and bush tail. The pads of his paws were still burned and no fur grew on the length of his tall legs and on his underbelly. He was anything but pleasant to look at. Even Twigleg wouldn't have been afraid of himself and as this though creeped into his head he looked swiftly behind him to plan his route of escape. Though the sands of time had caused the brute to become lonely and desperate for any form of social interaction he was still frightened at the thought that this stranger just may kill him.
Twigleg crept slowly through the snow that covered the landscape. He lifted his head over the a snowdrift and tilted his head to the side as he curiously watched the stranger, a black-colored fae, as she lay down in the cool snow. He wasn't one to be confrontational in the slightest and even aspect of his being told him to turn tail and run back to the safety of his rocky den but he continued to crouch behind the snowbank with his small, pointed head poking over the top of them as he spied on the newcomer
[[Will post for Hawk in a minute]]
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