Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2013 23:50:11 GMT
"Speech."
Following the old railroad track, a young dalmatian growled angrily as he looked around, stopping a few times when the smell of prey caught his nose. Blizzard, was angry because instead of being allowed to go off on his own, he was going to have to be trained by one of the elders. Didn't he prove his use to them already? Apparently not which Blizzard felt was not fair. He was meant to be a fighter, in fact his 'father'had allowed him to kill several cats during his time, however short, with him. He was only allowed out here, because he had managed to slip away undetected.
He'd come upon the train track by mistake, but Blizzard had been curious and decided to follow it and see where it lead. He shook his as he padded along the wooden track growling when he tripped and fell face first. Picking himself up, Blizzard resumed his walk while his thoughts continued to ooze anger and resentment towards the Tempest Pack. Sure, he would be an excellent spy, but he was a much better killer, his father had made sure of it. Bitter thoughts, kept swirling in Blizzard's mind and he had a hard time keeping his temper in, not that he had too, but he was 'suppose' to when becoming a spy. Sure, being a spy had it's perks, like not staying in one place the whole time, and a bit more freedom, but Blizzard didn't really care about that. All he wanted was a chance to sink his teeth into a cat and kill it.
'Oh, yes a lovely cat-toy would do me wond-what was that? Was that mud? It is mud. MUD!' thought Blizzard turning back around to jump in the large mud puddle he spotted a few metres before, but hadn't recognized it until he had passed it. He jumped in, splashing brown mud all over his beautiful white and black spotted coat. If there was one thing, Blizzard loved more than killing, it was dirt, more importantly mud. He loved every kind of mud there was, a nasty habit of his that he couldn't seem to nip in the bud. He loved rolling in it, covering himself in it until he looked like a chocolate labrador. He was so busy rolling in the mud, he didn't hear the sound of a twig snapping.
Following the old railroad track, a young dalmatian growled angrily as he looked around, stopping a few times when the smell of prey caught his nose. Blizzard, was angry because instead of being allowed to go off on his own, he was going to have to be trained by one of the elders. Didn't he prove his use to them already? Apparently not which Blizzard felt was not fair. He was meant to be a fighter, in fact his 'father'had allowed him to kill several cats during his time, however short, with him. He was only allowed out here, because he had managed to slip away undetected.
He'd come upon the train track by mistake, but Blizzard had been curious and decided to follow it and see where it lead. He shook his as he padded along the wooden track growling when he tripped and fell face first. Picking himself up, Blizzard resumed his walk while his thoughts continued to ooze anger and resentment towards the Tempest Pack. Sure, he would be an excellent spy, but he was a much better killer, his father had made sure of it. Bitter thoughts, kept swirling in Blizzard's mind and he had a hard time keeping his temper in, not that he had too, but he was 'suppose' to when becoming a spy. Sure, being a spy had it's perks, like not staying in one place the whole time, and a bit more freedom, but Blizzard didn't really care about that. All he wanted was a chance to sink his teeth into a cat and kill it.
'Oh, yes a lovely cat-toy would do me wond-what was that? Was that mud? It is mud. MUD!' thought Blizzard turning back around to jump in the large mud puddle he spotted a few metres before, but hadn't recognized it until he had passed it. He jumped in, splashing brown mud all over his beautiful white and black spotted coat. If there was one thing, Blizzard loved more than killing, it was dirt, more importantly mud. He loved every kind of mud there was, a nasty habit of his that he couldn't seem to nip in the bud. He loved rolling in it, covering himself in it until he looked like a chocolate labrador. He was so busy rolling in the mud, he didn't hear the sound of a twig snapping.