Post by cadere on Dec 17, 2006 2:56:16 GMT -5
Twodog sat on the floor of a barren room, scraps of paper and discarded scrolls strewn about. He let out a gentle sigh as he remembered the time when the place was full of life, back when the voodoo rebirth was still alive. These halls had once been bustling with new recruits, trying to make their mark, and the legends, doing what they could to maintain some semblance of order. But all was quiet now, no Deviance comforting a cub with candy, no Jawaa telling stories with her faithful cat Xaveria at her side, no Jayoba teaching the young fighters to properly maintain
their weapons, no bylin to scare the lights out of the rest the clan, no Ryborun ready to engage anyone in a friendly sparring match, no Kimdreg to lay down the law and make sure NOBODY messed with her clan, no Yutia to lighten any mood, and no Cadere to send his demons cause trouble wherever he could. The officers of the voodoo Rebirth had been scattered to the four winds along with the rest of the clan.
The large hunter just sat there, wishing things could go back to the way they were, and knowing they never would. He had been with the Voodoo for as long as he could remember, and simply did not know what to do now that his family was gone. He removed his tabard, gently folded it into a square, and placed it on the floor in the center of the room. After staring at the faded emblem for what seemed like hours, he abruptly turned around and walked out the door, sparing a single glace back at what had once been his home before stocking off into the night, alone.
their weapons, no bylin to scare the lights out of the rest the clan, no Ryborun ready to engage anyone in a friendly sparring match, no Kimdreg to lay down the law and make sure NOBODY messed with her clan, no Yutia to lighten any mood, and no Cadere to send his demons cause trouble wherever he could. The officers of the voodoo Rebirth had been scattered to the four winds along with the rest of the clan.
The large hunter just sat there, wishing things could go back to the way they were, and knowing they never would. He had been with the Voodoo for as long as he could remember, and simply did not know what to do now that his family was gone. He removed his tabard, gently folded it into a square, and placed it on the floor in the center of the room. After staring at the faded emblem for what seemed like hours, he abruptly turned around and walked out the door, sparing a single glace back at what had once been his home before stocking off into the night, alone.