Timestamp: 2nd of Summer 512 AV Where: Wind Reach Who: Avon, Euthisa The sounds of the afternoon activity was vastly different and strange from those of Lhavit, much more calmer and tamed then what Avon was used to, but still rather beautiful in its own way. Scattered comfortably and submerged in their own business were the other denizens of the Courtyard of the Sky, sitting, walking, or merely standing in place and conversing. To his eyes-the nocturnal eyes of the wolf-they stood out like beacons of flames stretching towards the moonlit-sky. sparking a small fascination in the wolf as he sat languidly off from the main mass of the group. He hadn’t transverse the mighty corridors of Wind Reach in his other form and he was definitely surprised in the differences he saw, little things that his human eyes had missed. The scents too were different on a barely tangible level, but he appreciated them nonetheless, feeling as if each smell had its own resounding effect on him. It was the scent of eagle, hard work, and the bizarre blend that composed the Inarta’s unique scent. It was beginning to become almost homely. Avon let out a huge yawn, exposing dangerous fangs that had their fair share use, blinking intelligently at those that offered him a cursory glance, as if questioning the significance of a wolf in there mountainous city. But he wasn’t worried. He was as docile as a puppy in play…for the most part, and loved nothing more for people to approach him in this way. After all, there were virtually no differences between this form and the other-well in his mind anyway. They were the same, held the same soul and personality. Yet no one seemed to understand this, always hasty to assume that he was some uncultured, wild beast or an impulsive wild boy. He could remember the days of his youth and his hyperactive playfulness and restlessness, always causing harmless mayhem out of a childish desire for fun. But the people of Lhavit were a refined group of people that tolerated very little of his antics. It grew bad enough that he had polite mannerisms and etiquette drilled permanently into his head by his father to the point where sometimes he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help being nice no matter what rude comment come his way. Couldn’t help the built-in respect that he was to have towards everyone even if they proved to be most undeserving of it at most time. It was basically involuntarily at this point in his life and had become a crucial part to his personality. “Hey! Mommy look! A puppy!” The black wolf looked up at the sound of little flame-haired girl running towards him, laughing softly as she instantly petted his muzzle and stroked his furry ears. His tail began to wag in delight and he felt the simple desire to play, nuzzling encouragingly at the little girl’s stomach, her giggles increasing in volume in reaction to the wetness of his nose. It wasn’t often children approached him when he was like this, fearing the intensity of his unwavering gaze, the glimpse of lethal canines, and his size that was mainly buffed up due to his pelt. So it wasn’t unreasonable that he savored this moment, going to lick the girls hand when she was so abruptly torn away by a scolding, protective mother who shot him a warning glance that made him feel rather hurt. He should’ve known better; these people favored animals of the avian variety and were respectively weary of any other animal. His ears flattening dejectedly to his skull, Avon picked himself off the ground back onto his paws, half-heartedly wandering if he should return home and rest up for his morning hunt. But the night was young and beautiful and he loathed being alone on such a wondrous night. Possibly, if he changed back into his more humanoid shape, then things wouldn’t turn out like this. But he felt it didn’t matter anyway. He was hard-pressed to figure out where he had disrobed at and walking around immodest wasn’t an option if he wanted to remain unbothered. And, much to his frustration, the Kelvic was still very much hungry despite having had his dinner recently. Sulking, hungry, and lonely, the wolf sat wearily on his hunches, golden-green eyes seemingly glowing in the dark as they observed every minute detail of the night… |