Post by Momo on Jan 27, 2011 0:33:17 GMT -5
ZEALOT
The stained glass allowed the moon's glow through with a striking myriad of stained colors; pastels of the rainbow showing their true act upon the stony, crumbled floors that let the sharper, harsher of foliage through the ripping cracks. Shards of stone floor lay helplessly around to disorient and harm the paws and digits of those unlucky enough to wander in their sharp paths. The well-prepared paws of the lengthy, strapping male wolf that now passed through the rougher of the cathedral stamped upon the harsher elements of the night-lit establishment. It was one of his favorite places to go when it came to his usual midnight stalking; in fact it were to be rumored amongst Valkyr's own that he lived there. It would be supposed adequate; a gentleman and sub-alpha to Pynthi had to have his castle did he not? It wasn't that he lived there in all truth, but rather spent most his nocturnal time there. He would rest during the day there occasionally, although he wasn't confined to that single space. The "old man" was never confined to any one place. He came and went even past his own pleasure. There was to be no taming Zealot; his insanity knew no bounds. His insanity became his instincts a long time ago. And that certainly can't be healthy for those who know him.
There was one thing about him that seemed to capture inquiry; and that was his sheer intelligence. His disposition of a fine gentleman, and the voice to match of it. He could very easily be labeled as sending mixed signals, and was therefore something to study. He was dangerous - he was mad. And yet he was that intelligent scholarly professor no one could seem to befriend more than being a subject. Zealot was an odd one, that.
But becoming sub-alpha for Pynthi would deserve him to be much more applied to her wishes, and this gave him enough reason to actually use that insanity for some sort of greater good. He wasn't at all afraid to admit that he found a greater interest in serving the lone Alphess of Valkyr. Being this close to the top was as good as it was going to get for the ambitious Zealot. In his modesty.
A slab of stone lay in the center of the largest room of the cathedral, laying bathed in the magnificent light of the stained moon. Zealot firmly planted himself onto the slanted slab and turned his eyes to the stained glass, allowing those sage orbs to soak into the myriad of colors before him. He allowed his mind to fall asleep - almost quite literally - his back turned to the entrance from whence he had arrived, leaving him completely vulnerable to anyone who had stumbled upon him this night.
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