2 hours ago
((rolled a d20 to see if he's hidden and he's not LMAO, feel free to acknowledge him or not))
One thing Cyril had not considered about this new body was supplying it with nutrition. His beloved king often gave him whatever he craved, be it wine, meat, or succulent fruit, leaving little room for him to worry about starving. He was always a light eater, anyways, so he rarely sought out food until the tables were filled for banquet, but these hunger pangs were becoming difficult to ignore.
Much to his chagrin, he realized that wolves often fought for their food, rather than being presented it by an obedient servant. Imagine that, a deer simply serving itself to him.
But no, life wasn’t as easy anymore, he would have to provide for himself. Thankfully, his red coat complimented the amber leaves of this forest, potentially providing him with near perfect camouflage. So long as he could be patient, which Cyril wasn’t particularly known for… But he wasn’t anything if not a go-getter, so he’d give it an honest try.
Nose to the ground, he attempted to parse the scents that were significant to his wolf-self. What did a deer smell like, or a hare? Ugh, he had no clue.
Oh.
But he recognized that scent.
Other wolves.
He trailed it, eager to meet someone else in this barren land. He’d been twitching for company just as much as he had been for food, it wouldn’t hurt to follow up on a smell like.
And then he found them. A redhead perched in a tree like a bird of prey, and a smaller, darker male below it, speaking up to her. I didn’t know the wolves of this land were tree dwellers, he thought humorously. Hidden by his amber fur amongst the fallen leaves, Cyril hung back, observing the conversation in amusement rather than interrupting it.
One thing Cyril had not considered about this new body was supplying it with nutrition. His beloved king often gave him whatever he craved, be it wine, meat, or succulent fruit, leaving little room for him to worry about starving. He was always a light eater, anyways, so he rarely sought out food until the tables were filled for banquet, but these hunger pangs were becoming difficult to ignore.
Much to his chagrin, he realized that wolves often fought for their food, rather than being presented it by an obedient servant. Imagine that, a deer simply serving itself to him.
But no, life wasn’t as easy anymore, he would have to provide for himself. Thankfully, his red coat complimented the amber leaves of this forest, potentially providing him with near perfect camouflage. So long as he could be patient, which Cyril wasn’t particularly known for… But he wasn’t anything if not a go-getter, so he’d give it an honest try.
Nose to the ground, he attempted to parse the scents that were significant to his wolf-self. What did a deer smell like, or a hare? Ugh, he had no clue.
Oh.
But he recognized that scent.
Other wolves.
He trailed it, eager to meet someone else in this barren land. He’d been twitching for company just as much as he had been for food, it wouldn’t hurt to follow up on a smell like.
And then he found them. A redhead perched in a tree like a bird of prey, and a smaller, darker male below it, speaking up to her. I didn’t know the wolves of this land were tree dwellers, he thought humorously. Hidden by his amber fur amongst the fallen leaves, Cyril hung back, observing the conversation in amusement rather than interrupting it.