09-05-2014, 01:30 PM
[i will take you up on that! =D ]
As it so happens, the red wolf is not the only newcomer come to make introductions to the Sept of Forgotten Questions. Yukito's approach is from the south and west, down from the mountains but up and away from the neighborhood that skirts the park's western border. He arrives in Glabro, t-shirt and jeans adjusted to fit his increased bulk, with a ram slung over his shoulder.
He pauses well outside the borders and gently, almost reverently places his kill on the ground. The ram was an old and strong creature, his horns curving twice, nearly three times and coated in scratches, chips, frays. Even in death he is deserving of some form of respect, even if at the end of the day his flesh will become someone's meal. Yukito arrived in the area hours and hours ago, and spent the time from then to now hunting down this creature's herd and then bearing down on its leader. One can tell by the way the head lolls against the Ragabash's back that its neck was snapped. Its pelt, save for the scars received in life, is perfect.
Shifting to lupus, he howls his presence and his name and so forth. A Guardian will find Yukito on bended knee beside the ram's body, returned to his birth form with head inclined respectfully.
"My name is Yukito Hayashibara," he says, repeating his howl with human words and speaking with a notable accent, "Cliath Ragabash Shadow Lord, deeded Senpū in the Sora no Soko Sept of Tokyo. I have brought a gift for the Warder and Guardians of the Sept of Forgotten Questions." Only when the gift has been received will he enter the bawn, to explore its grounds on four legs that cover the ground much faster than two. He marvels at the great hulking sandstone spine jutting up near to the park's visitor center and sniffs around Persse Place.
Perhaps it's here that he crosses paths with the Fianna Ahroun. They are light and dark, she with her shades of red and he who looks like a scrap of shadow torn from night-spirit and given life. He dips his muzzle down, ears flicking back as golden eyes regard the other cliath before whuffing a quiet, quick greeting.
As it so happens, the red wolf is not the only newcomer come to make introductions to the Sept of Forgotten Questions. Yukito's approach is from the south and west, down from the mountains but up and away from the neighborhood that skirts the park's western border. He arrives in Glabro, t-shirt and jeans adjusted to fit his increased bulk, with a ram slung over his shoulder.
He pauses well outside the borders and gently, almost reverently places his kill on the ground. The ram was an old and strong creature, his horns curving twice, nearly three times and coated in scratches, chips, frays. Even in death he is deserving of some form of respect, even if at the end of the day his flesh will become someone's meal. Yukito arrived in the area hours and hours ago, and spent the time from then to now hunting down this creature's herd and then bearing down on its leader. One can tell by the way the head lolls against the Ragabash's back that its neck was snapped. Its pelt, save for the scars received in life, is perfect.
Shifting to lupus, he howls his presence and his name and so forth. A Guardian will find Yukito on bended knee beside the ram's body, returned to his birth form with head inclined respectfully.
"My name is Yukito Hayashibara," he says, repeating his howl with human words and speaking with a notable accent, "Cliath Ragabash Shadow Lord, deeded Senpū in the Sora no Soko Sept of Tokyo. I have brought a gift for the Warder and Guardians of the Sept of Forgotten Questions." Only when the gift has been received will he enter the bawn, to explore its grounds on four legs that cover the ground much faster than two. He marvels at the great hulking sandstone spine jutting up near to the park's visitor center and sniffs around Persse Place.
Perhaps it's here that he crosses paths with the Fianna Ahroun. They are light and dark, she with her shades of red and he who looks like a scrap of shadow torn from night-spirit and given life. He dips his muzzle down, ears flicking back as golden eyes regard the other cliath before whuffing a quiet, quick greeting.