by . ѕℰℰιиg . тнιиgѕ . » Sun Jul 10, 2011 3:01 pm
Zash sat beside a tree, gnawing on a bone, the remnants of last night's feast. The bones were all she got. The wolf's ribs were sticking out savagely, and she had a cut on her nose. Her fur was clean, though, and not too ruffled.
"How can a band be any good without a slightly cocky frontman?" - 