1258 cr points
22 / F
In the towns of this region, wolves are absolutely loathed here. It is also the where the main Hunting organizations are located. There is an uneven balance between amounts of humans hunts and wolf raids, the hunts are a much greater number. Because of this great number of hunts, the wolves here especially despise humans. This area is generally very against Tamers and their wolves, they believe they cannot be in harmony with each other and are very dedicated to their beliefs. This region also has the best medicine in the entire dimension.
reminder: when RPing always remember that the entire realm has been damned into an eternal winter. so currently, it is snowing.[
|( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ~ c o f f e e|
1182 cr points
It was pitch black outside, the darkness descending like a blanket., silence had fell long ago, until a loud howling was heard from the woods, loud enough to reach the outskirts of a nearby hunting town. Syr was currently hurt, a hunter had shot him in the arm with an arrow. He whimpered loudly, limping to the abandoned hunting shack he stayed in often. It was a small shack, built when the first few hunting organizations were being founded. Abandoned by many years, few knew about it, Syr happening to stumble upon it by accident. It was a quaint little place, oddly placed in the middle of a small clearing in the trees. Its floor was falling apart and its deck was separating from the rest of it. There were holes in the floor, although most of them weren't dangerous as between the poorly constructed foundation and the floorboards was a dirt-clay mix. However, a few of the holes Syr had found particularly curious and had dug to see if there was anything in the dirt. He quickly formed tunnels under the floor, which were small but could be used for a quick escape or a place to hide if he was not hurt. Unfortunately he could not climb under the floor for safety tonight, he could barely move. The fact that he was limping added to his already odd way he walked when in human form; he had never been taught to walk on two legs, and never needed to pick up on the habit as he had never interacted with humans for the most part. He extended his legs out behind him when he walked to compensate his back legs being longer than his front legs, awkwardly bringing one leg forward, bending it, and basically pushing himself into the direction he wanted to go. He looked like he was getting up from a push-up every time he walked, eventually getting onto the porch. He continued to whimper, sheepishly afraid of the dark unless he knew he was safe in his tunnels. He thought about staying outside, but was afraid the scary ghost from before would stab his shoulder again with- well, whatever he had pulled from his shoulder. He eventually limped inside, howling again when a particularly rusty nail stabbed his foot. He had no shoes, the only reason he wore clothes at all is because he always had, and shoes were never part of the 'always have' category. He flopped to the floor, having no energy to move any further, the nail tearing through his flesh.
|Someday, I'm gonna go home.|