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Unease. His entire body shook with unease as he lingered on the cliffs, his mind eager to move about. With winter here, his limbs were finally realizing how old he was. He was aged, grey, creaky, and he couldn't believe he hadn't realized it up until now. He wished that he could rewind time and be brought back to when he was able to move fluidly and was as flexible as a pup. But for now, he would have to deal with the seven years of weight that lay upon his shoulders and slowed him down. He was still a wolf, though, and though he was old and nearing death, he could still run and hunt for himself. If he wanted to live out the rest of his life in ease, he would join a pack and settle down once and for all. His wanderlust would not let him, though. He had explored most of Torva, but he did not want to let himself rest just yet. Kiril Vocal wanted to walk about and continue to exercise his limbs. Today, his mind was mostly in a state of being alright. There was no war within his body, perhaps because there was a light snow falling and the darkness inside of him needed his body to live as much as Kiril did. Perhaps it was this creature inside that was making him feel so old, and it felt horrible.Kiril sighed, then sunk to the ground, nestled against a thick tree trunk that had fallen years ago. He blinked slowly, his orange eyes watering. Age. It was destroying him. He probably would not be able to breed again, he had missed the large margin of time that he could do that. He had chosen to live a life of wandering and discovery, instead of taking time to create a family. And when he had created a family, it had fallen apart on him, and had literally been destroyed. He wished that things hadn't happened the way they had, but alas he could not change them now. He was being forced to his knees by the laws of nature, and it was hard to accept that perhaps his days were coming to an end. He would be dead within two years, three if he was lucky. He only had a limited amount of sunrises and sunsets left, and the thought of it made him so very empty."Speech"WE ADMIT TO THE TRUTH, WE ARE BEST AT WHAT WE DO.

These lands could change a man. Heck, the hurricane had proven that a land could even change itself. But, for the most part, things stayed the same. Wolves still came and went, some impacted more than others, but always changed just as much as the length they had stayed. The sun and moon still pulled the reigns on the sky and wolves still existed. But time had a way of doing strange things. Some wolves seemed to linger on while the new disappeared. Those who had bright futures found their way to the graves while those who didn't deserve another breath somehow prospered. It could easily be called randomness in a probabilistic model, but it almost seemed like something more. Perhaps that fate was a kid with an ant farm and a magnifying glass. If any creatures had lived here long enough, survived enough plagues, and bled enough sorrow, Athena surely had to be a well-running candidate. But what did the young and stupid know about age? What reason did the unintelligible have? How well could those who daydreamed about marshmallows comprehend the fact that a time ahead of today even existed? "One little, two little, three little marshmallow. Four little, five little, six little marshmallow. Seven little, eight little, nine little marshmallow. And they all go round and round.", a voice creaked like a neglected rotting bridge over a thousand foot drop, the result of trying to sing far higher than its vocals would allow. Even though Athena's brain for this personality may not have worked very well, her bodily functions still did. Her ears picked up a sound, and her mouth responded, thoughtless. "Is someone there? Would you like to count marshmallows with me....", her voice faded into a slight breeze. Here, laying on her back with her paws curled on her chest, she could gaze perfectly at the heavens above. Like a charcoal polka-dot in a snowstorm, her pupils were unfocused, her expression blank. "One little...", she began humming again, the words barely discernible. Her lungs took a breath even though her mind had not stopped playing the tune, and as she exhaled, the song continued, as if the record player had merely skipped a beat. "#ddd"