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Gentle morning light with a slight chill within the air     Eastborne     Morning       Eastrenhold

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The Pheonix General
Eastrenhold (Member)
Statistics
Species
Artic × Makenzie Valley

Sex
Male (Male)

Age
6 years, 2 months

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Very Heavy

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Forest Green / Ruby Red

Fur
Off-white

Scent
Burnt Oakwood

Oddities
A long, aged scar that sits upon his right eye

Mark of Mythris
None

Writer

Posts

Threads

Rating
3L - 3S - 3V

Ambitious - Bull-headed - Foul-mouthed - Passionate - Loyal - Protective - Himbo™
#1
 
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A rising sun’s soft glow falls through the cracks of the castle's stone walls, and the tundrarian rouses from his admittedly uncomfortable slumber once and for all. Heavy forelimbs stretch forward, claws gripping the stone flooring as his jaws stretch wide to release a yawn crawling out from his chest.

As Azon shifts forward to rise, he winces — a crick in his neck. Supposedly what he deserved for finding a pile of hay and grass to sleep on last night, though that was the least of his concern right now.

This was new, for sure.

Ever since Northfall, at least, he hadn’t been a part of a proper group. The general was no longer alone like before — he had company. A place to call his own, bodies to protect, and a job to fulfill. In this case, he served beneath a ruling matriarch as this domain’s knight — a title which was probably far too formal for someone such as him. Yet it was a job description that fit him perfectly.

So, as he’d done all his life, he’d get the job done.

Today’s mission was to trail and mark their newly claimed territory — something Ignis was accustomed to and good at. It was certainly a start, and possibly even a way to meet some of the wolves who called this castle their home as well. An early morning patrol never hurt anyone after all.

Though it seems as though someone had beaten him to the outside already.

Heavy footfall fell to a halt as his nose flared, picking up the scent of the darkly furred man who stood outside the entrance of the castle. Toned and muscled like he, and smelling of the rest of the wolves who roamed this land. Intrigued, his footfalls continue as he offers a short -chuff- to announce his presence with a smile, jutting his chin towards the skyline to call attention towards it.

Ain’t she a beauty this time of day? Th’sky, I mean…
[Image: 57087908_I12704KWh1hxWoo.png]

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Lord Commander
Eastrenhold
Statistics
Species
Wolf

Sex
Male (He/Him)

Age
5 Years

Height
Tall

Weight
Heavy

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Ice & Steel Blue

Fur
Soot, smoke, & snow

Scent
Juniper, citrus, cedarwood, holly & cranberry

Mark of Mythris
Glowing, scrawling runes during heightened emotional state

Writer

Posts

Threads

Strategic . Self-Sacrificing . Duty-bound . Stoic . Haunted
#2
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He is nothing but a man of routine.

Of habits that had very little intention of ever changing, even in another lifetime, it seemed.

Raelan had woken just as the sun did, as he often did, and had made his way out into the courtyard to begin his usual rituals. A stretch first, to loosen the muscles that were often weary with the effects of sleep. A yawn then, to wake his mind from the dreams he tried to keep at bay, and then a long inhale of the clean, mountainous, sea-bitten air that would signal to his body that he was awake and ready for the day’s lengthy duties.

It had been the same as when he was a man, and it was the same, even now, as a wolf.

Yet, what he had not prepared for was the friendly sound of another behind him; one that carried a burning oakwood scent.

The Lord Commander turned his head, glancing once at the man of white who approached—his words kind and thoughtful as Raelan’s head dipped to a nod before his gaze trailed toward the sky.

She is, he agreed, watching as the colors of dawn slowly bled life into the horizon ahead. Not many are able to appreciate the beauty of the dawn, he started, his tail swaying idly at his ankles. Not many are awake.

A brow rose as he glanced back at the man. You are certainly up early.
[Image: RaelanSig.gif]
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