{{ - s o r e n .;

[&&!; SONiDY - - x]

Tender morning light filtered through the thick wall of trees that surrounded the Reind meadow. The heavy, pungent smell of animals wove through the vibrant stalks of grass - the most distinct scent of all being that of the wolf. Not just a wolf, wolves. For this meadow was the home of the Ventura pack, a group of wolves who lived near the center of the land.

The very earth seemed to tremble under the giant footsteps of one particular wolf. This creature was not your average canine; Soren was a dire wolf. He was three times the size of any average wolf, coming to about five feet in height. His shoulders were wide and powerful, along with his square-like head and stubby legs.

Soren's pelt was pure white. Ivory wove like silk over his tough skin, swaying in harmony as the wind beat against it. Atop his white fur rested clear, vivid green markings. They seemed to glow even in the sunlight. One wove away from his eye like a long eyelash, while the others on his shoulders and legs swam like narrow rivulets of stream water.

His massive feet split apart the grass instantly. And when he moved away, the grass still lay in its former position, flattened in the shape of his paw. Soren gazed about himself warmly. Today was awfully hot, but that was not a bad thing. The prey ran bountifully this season; surely the coming winter wouldn't be so bad.

However ominous and large he may be, Soren hated everything to do with fighting. He had only participated in one battle, and that battle was the one at his home lands. He shuddered to remember it. All the blood . . . and the death. Oh, I could smell death in the very air around me. Never. Never again would he do that.

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[Fayolinn]~]

Yeah, his back was definitely starting to ache now.

Zak had been through plenty of training, sure, but never went through any wolf-carrying exercises. He wasn't necessarily in pain, but it just wasn't a pleasant experience. Of course, he'd never say anything about it or show any signs of discomfort, because on top of being rude (yes, Zak has manners -- the thought of such a thing!), he wasn't particuarly disliking it...

"Looks like we're almost to Soren's," Zak murmured, careful to keep his pace steady and even. The Reind meadow was coming into view, the strong scent of wolves ever present. It was a familiar smell, comforting to any Ventura member's nose. Seeing a figure appear from its den, Zak knew from a distance that it had to be Soren, their soothsayer. "Speak of the devil, here he comes." The dire wolf was large and intimidating, though everyone of the pack knew he had a heart just as big. His fur was pure snowy white with glowing green markings lacing his pelt. Zak cast an encouraging glance over his shoulder. "We'll have you looked at in no time!" Offering another smile, the black-furred male then cast a look Cloud's way, who was quietly trotting by his side. Sensing his gaze, Cloud returned the gaze, his mouth still but his eyes speaking all the words he needed.

"Hey there, Soren," Zak called, raising his head higher. When they were just a few feet away, Zak had to raise his head to look into the seer's eyes. "Could you, um, take a look at Cooro here? She injured her shoulder and can't put any weight on it..." Though his tone was smooth and friendly, by the look in Zak's chocolate-brown eyes, you could tell he was in a hurry.