Fluffy Friends, not Fluffy Food. [A Wool Full Renown Quest]
Nov 23, 2023 22:55:21 GMT -5
Post by Aelus Ka'vrook on Nov 23, 2023 22:55:21 GMT -5
In the soft snow, Aelus lay prone, his massive white mane providing effective camouflage and concealing his form. His pure pale blue eyes fixated on a clearing just beyond the tree line, narrowing with focused attention. A quartet of colorful creatures meandered along, their baying and bleating captivating the inquisitive Draegloth. Having spent over a week in the Coldwood, the despair of fleeing the Pale City faded as Aelus immersed himself in the present.
While encountering various creatures in the woods, some intelligent and others simple animals, these particular beings were something Aelus had read about—Woolful! As a child, his mother would read him a children's book depicting Woolful as gentle, benevolent creatures, and harming them was considered taboo and brought bad luck for a generation. The artistic depictions and cute appearance of Woolful had always captivated the sheltered Draegloth, for whom the outside world was an entirely new experience.
A strong desire to approach them, to feel their wool and experience their presence, surged within Aelus. However, rationality prevailed. Despite proving his friendliness to the few intelligent beings he had encountered, he harbored little doubt that a simple animal would be unable to see past his extremely predatory appearance and half-demonic aura.
Yearning for a book and writing tool, Aelus wished to capture the essence of these creatures in drawings and descriptions. He couldn't quite comprehend why their appearance alone evoked feelings of hope and happiness—sensations he hadn't experienced since his mother left the villa.
The monarch of the Coldwood unfurled, his colossal forelimbs extending in a cat-like stretch as he arched his back. A majestic fusion of gorilla and lion, this confident and powerful black-furred creature embodied the elusive Yaguareté. True to form, he awoke late, his prowess in the hunt rendering urgency unnecessary. In the Frostgale, few challenges could confront him directly, and even fewer matched his expertise in stealth and ambush.
Toweringly massive, he stood at twelve feet at the shoulder while on all fours, a living legend that folklore revolved around. He became a tangible reality, a dark specter looming over hunters who recounted stories to anyone willing to listen. However, unlike most tales, Yaguareté was no myth; it was all too real.
The regal beast traversed the snow, his footfalls eerily silent, and his black fur seamlessly blending into every shadow cast on the shaded white landscape. Nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed, the time had come to stalk, observe, and hunt. His colossal form appeared to almost flatten as he melded into the darkness, disappearing from sight.
The Yaguareté was on the prowl, and his destination was inevitable. In the wake of the Yaguareté's presence, opportunistic scavengers seeking to capitalize on the Coldwood king's prowess trailed behind, with a few solitary and emaciated Barghest slinking in its wake.
While encountering various creatures in the woods, some intelligent and others simple animals, these particular beings were something Aelus had read about—Woolful! As a child, his mother would read him a children's book depicting Woolful as gentle, benevolent creatures, and harming them was considered taboo and brought bad luck for a generation. The artistic depictions and cute appearance of Woolful had always captivated the sheltered Draegloth, for whom the outside world was an entirely new experience.
A strong desire to approach them, to feel their wool and experience their presence, surged within Aelus. However, rationality prevailed. Despite proving his friendliness to the few intelligent beings he had encountered, he harbored little doubt that a simple animal would be unable to see past his extremely predatory appearance and half-demonic aura.
Yearning for a book and writing tool, Aelus wished to capture the essence of these creatures in drawings and descriptions. He couldn't quite comprehend why their appearance alone evoked feelings of hope and happiness—sensations he hadn't experienced since his mother left the villa.
A soft sigh escaped him, his heavy breath displacing the snow in front of his lupine snout. Today, he decided, he would simply watch them, unwilling to relinquish this brief bliss that seemed impossible to abandon for the lonely Draegloth.
Toweringly massive, he stood at twelve feet at the shoulder while on all fours, a living legend that folklore revolved around. He became a tangible reality, a dark specter looming over hunters who recounted stories to anyone willing to listen. However, unlike most tales, Yaguareté was no myth; it was all too real.
The regal beast traversed the snow, his footfalls eerily silent, and his black fur seamlessly blending into every shadow cast on the shaded white landscape. Nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed, the time had come to stalk, observe, and hunt. His colossal form appeared to almost flatten as he melded into the darkness, disappearing from sight.
The Yaguareté was on the prowl, and his destination was inevitable. In the wake of the Yaguareté's presence, opportunistic scavengers seeking to capitalize on the Coldwood king's prowess trailed behind, with a few solitary and emaciated Barghest slinking in its wake.