Relationship Status: It's Complicated
U R G E N C Y
WEARING: xxx
TAG: Declan Durinson
The Hunt.
It was a right of passage many cultures observed, and one every Lupo knew to the fiber of their being. For Gerwald it was much more simple. One hunted to live, and he lived to hunt. He had made a living off of it. Over time the wolf had not just learned to hunt wild animals, but monstrosities of all kinds. From supernatural beings to those that would inflict harm on another sentient life. He had torched most of his own village for caging his sister. Treating life with dignity was something Gerwald valued.
Word had reached Gerwald of more fur traders moving about Bellassa. The last time they had come it left several Lupo injured and one dead. Gerwald could not shake the image of a lupo mid transition and skinned. It had been enough to drive him to kill every last one of the fur traders that had caused the ambush. Aelin Erevos had been with him to see his rage, and with their return he did not wish to involve her again.
There had been another wolf Gerwald had met at the summer festival. Much of that night he did not remember too well, but the faces of those he saw before his binge was one thing he did. The Lupo stood at the edge of the training yard waiting for Declan to arrive. A short message had been sent to him explaining the situation. Gerwald was not one for too many words when something more precise would suffice.
It had been something to the effect of:
Fur traders hunting Lupo. We will kill them first. Find me at the training pits.
His time away from the Confederacy had seen the wolf dawn armor and clothing which was a bit more like what he would have worn on Stewjon. Whatever technology that had been in the armor crafted for him as Lord Commander was lacking in what he wore now. It was simple leather and chain, but it was something which made Gerwald feel more himself than he had in a long time. No doubt Bryn would mock his caution, but it was more important to live than collect more scars.
There would be no lightsabers today, simply a hammer. It had been a gift from someone Gerwald still considered to be a friend, closer than perhaps. Their relationship was yet to be defined, and the wolf liked it that way. It was a close and personal weapon, yet one that would cause severe damage. This was how he wanted it. Gerwald wanted to hear bones break and he smashed the face of his blunt instrument into the skulls of his enemy.
It was a right of passage many cultures observed, and one every Lupo knew to the fiber of their being. For Gerwald it was much more simple. One hunted to live, and he lived to hunt. He had made a living off of it. Over time the wolf had not just learned to hunt wild animals, but monstrosities of all kinds. From supernatural beings to those that would inflict harm on another sentient life. He had torched most of his own village for caging his sister. Treating life with dignity was something Gerwald valued.
Word had reached Gerwald of more fur traders moving about Bellassa. The last time they had come it left several Lupo injured and one dead. Gerwald could not shake the image of a lupo mid transition and skinned. It had been enough to drive him to kill every last one of the fur traders that had caused the ambush. Aelin Erevos had been with him to see his rage, and with their return he did not wish to involve her again.
There had been another wolf Gerwald had met at the summer festival. Much of that night he did not remember too well, but the faces of those he saw before his binge was one thing he did. The Lupo stood at the edge of the training yard waiting for Declan to arrive. A short message had been sent to him explaining the situation. Gerwald was not one for too many words when something more precise would suffice.
It had been something to the effect of:
Fur traders hunting Lupo. We will kill them first. Find me at the training pits.
His time away from the Confederacy had seen the wolf dawn armor and clothing which was a bit more like what he would have worn on Stewjon. Whatever technology that had been in the armor crafted for him as Lord Commander was lacking in what he wore now. It was simple leather and chain, but it was something which made Gerwald feel more himself than he had in a long time. No doubt Bryn would mock his caution, but it was more important to live than collect more scars.
There would be no lightsabers today, simply a hammer. It had been a gift from someone Gerwald still considered to be a friend, closer than perhaps. Their relationship was yet to be defined, and the wolf liked it that way. It was a close and personal weapon, yet one that would cause severe damage. This was how he wanted it. Gerwald wanted to hear bones break and he smashed the face of his blunt instrument into the skulls of his enemy.