Wanderer

[» cyanide]

The delicate padding of tiny paws echoed rather noisily in the old run down building scented with a thick pungent odor. This was the alpha’s castle, his domain. Apollo’s heartbeat quickened as he started to fear that he wasn’t wanted here, that he was somewhat unwelcome. His mind raced, the gears turning and assuming these dogs wouldn’t want a good attack dog like him. So he did look the part of a street dog, he never wanted to be one. Never. That was why this ferocious dog stayed silent, within himself, hoping that his simple words won’t give off his willingness to be a house pet.

Maybe it would change over time. All he could do was hope. His russet pools glanced around the shabby shack this male called home. Apollonios glanced around, as he let out a gruff bark, a bark that meant he wanted someone to come, to greet him. For he was looking for a pack. The closest thing to house pet life a dog could get.

[Maybe ♫]

Confusion clung to Darthyn like a heavy fog. It obscured his mind, leaving it to think of nothing else but his pack. The clan was growing every day, and Darthyn's methods of keeping everyone in check just weren't cutting it. He hardly knew any of his pack mates. Resolving to get to know them all as time went on, another scent hit him. It bombarded his senses like a mallet. ruffling his fur, he went to investigate.

As he peered out of the rusty old doorway, a small, rugged gray dog met his eyes. Blinking as the sun temporarily blinded him, he padded up to the fierce looking canine. He seemed to have had quite an ordeal, as his fur was mottled and unkempt and there was a slight, almost healed, cut on his neck that seemed to have come from escaping from a collar. God for him, thought the leader as he introduced himself.

"Welcome. I'm Darthyn. Do you seek a place in the pack?" He needed to cut right to the chase, for the sun had almost climbed to it's highest point in the sky, which was when the Gathering would begin, and he couldn't waste time exchanging pleasantries.

ooc // shitty post, trying to get it done quicker so he can join the gathering.

[» cyanide]

Russet pools of pure exhaustion stared out blankly, meeting the male who seemed to have stunk up the whole lodge bleakly. With little concern as to what he was getting himself into, he leaned back onto his sore haunches with as sigh, and nodded his aching cranium. He needed a place to rest, or something. This pack position would do for rest, and a family.

“Yes sir.”[/b][/color] He said with the utmost respect high in his tone. He didn’t sound anything like he looked; his voice was as charming as a prince, while his looks were that of the poorest peasants. He could look good, if he gave a damn at what he looked like at the moment. Apollonios knew his looks made him seem fierce, yet he could look tough even cleaned up, which was what he was planning on doing after a nice night of sleep in his new pack (if he was able to join). [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Maybe ♫]

At the male's words, the large gray beast nodded, looking him over.

"What is your name?" He decided against testing this dog with a battle, which he did quite often. He needed to see who was fit for pack life, and who wasn't. And right now, this dog wasn't. But with just a look at his stout, muscular frame, Darthyn knew some fresh kill and a good night's sleep would fix that. Then they'd spar.

"You look travel-worn," He breathed, motioning towards the dog's abdomen where his ribs were slightly visible through that matted fur. "Why don't you attend the Gathering, then have a long rest." Darthyn motioned with his muzzle in the direction of the Nesting Grounds. "I'll take you somewhere safe to sleep, once the Gathering has ended. But you'll find it quite beneficial to attend."

Smiling wryly, Darthyn too sat back on his haunches, watching the little terrier mix intently through his amber orbs. "When you have eaten and gotten sufficient rest, we will see if you are suited for pack life. Until then, you are welcome here as a guest." Darthyn nodded and smiled again, this time any hint of wryness had vanished and had been replaced with sympathy.

[» cyanide]

Rather vaguely, Apollo’s lip raised as the sympathy pooled around Darthyn’s words. Pfft, fool, he needed no sympathy simply a place to sleep. He was beat after mauling a six year old or two, splitting open human flesh and craving more of that sweet sugar tainted blood, and last but not least, from slipping out of a spiked collar, and hoping a fence. So he’d been busy the last five or so days with very little sleep occurring between those drastic events.

“It’s Apollonios, call me Apollo.” He said gruffly, his jaws still very sore from the hard kick to push him from his master’s leg. With the very thought of that attack, it sent shivers of happiness down his spine. He’d deserved it that fat bastard. His blood had tasted lovely, for the man gorged on human food every night watching a moving picture box.[/blockquote][/blockquote] [/color]

[Maybe ♫]

"Darthyn," he muttered, uncaring. There would be time for pleasantries later, but now, the Gathering would be starting. Turning to walk away, he shot a glance at Apollo.

"The Gathering is soon." He stated simply, staring at the little mongrel with sleepless amber eyes, his expression weary and tired.


ooc // Sorry, I hate these acceptance posts, I try to make them quick and painless.