12-10-2016, 07:45 PM
we’re on each other’s team…
Taiga was not a kingdom.
It had never been intended to be a place of leaders and Kings. It was a place where those with family could come and live and be in peace—for all worked for the good of the pack. And at the top of this echelon was dear Reagan, the Irish lady who was afraid of potatoes.
And yet, with all her eccentricities, Ruan loved her just as she was, and they supported each other and the children they reared within the protection of the forest. Neither had intended to lead it, or be the ones to bolster its borders. But instead they find themselves a home, and the ability to control it and protect themselves. They are, for lack of a better turn of phrase, a pack. The wolves patrolled the lands by night, and they would forever.
And so, when the white wolf stalks the group, she smiles with her white fangs and her pretty pink tongue hanging from her mouth. She senses dissatisfaction from the one who calls himself Nymphetamine, and from the one who claims to be with him. Such loyalty is admirable. For a machine cannot run properly without all the parts. All parts are crucial, and whole. But they work better together, and that is the way things are meant to be. Reagan without Ruan would not be what she was—indeed, she would cease to exist in her current form. And so she transforms her body to her birth form. Her hunt forgotten, she approaches them all. Magnus and Nayl are known to her—and she knows suddenly that the two she does not know are in search of a home… a future, that could be determined together. She does not wait for the pleasantries. She is hungry, and must return to her hunt soon… “I could not help but overhear,” she says, “But you seem to be looking for a place to call home together. My name is Reagan, and if you want protection, consider my family your own. All are welcome, for it is because of loyalty that the Taiga is able to exist at all.”
She hesitates, her eyes going to Magnus and Nayl. This was a game that she normally plays better than this.
Blame it on a hungry stomach.
It had never been intended to be a place of leaders and Kings. It was a place where those with family could come and live and be in peace—for all worked for the good of the pack. And at the top of this echelon was dear Reagan, the Irish lady who was afraid of potatoes.
And yet, with all her eccentricities, Ruan loved her just as she was, and they supported each other and the children they reared within the protection of the forest. Neither had intended to lead it, or be the ones to bolster its borders. But instead they find themselves a home, and the ability to control it and protect themselves. They are, for lack of a better turn of phrase, a pack. The wolves patrolled the lands by night, and they would forever.
And so, when the white wolf stalks the group, she smiles with her white fangs and her pretty pink tongue hanging from her mouth. She senses dissatisfaction from the one who calls himself Nymphetamine, and from the one who claims to be with him. Such loyalty is admirable. For a machine cannot run properly without all the parts. All parts are crucial, and whole. But they work better together, and that is the way things are meant to be. Reagan without Ruan would not be what she was—indeed, she would cease to exist in her current form. And so she transforms her body to her birth form. Her hunt forgotten, she approaches them all. Magnus and Nayl are known to her—and she knows suddenly that the two she does not know are in search of a home… a future, that could be determined together. She does not wait for the pleasantries. She is hungry, and must return to her hunt soon… “I could not help but overhear,” she says, “But you seem to be looking for a place to call home together. My name is Reagan, and if you want protection, consider my family your own. All are welcome, for it is because of loyalty that the Taiga is able to exist at all.”
She hesitates, her eyes going to Magnus and Nayl. This was a game that she normally plays better than this.
Blame it on a hungry stomach.