[open] dirty paws & glistening scales

[Firen]

He is a slinking thing; a lesser mammal. You would hardly know he was anything more than a feral dog, beaten and submissive. At least true wolves can bite.

Hush, dear. He will hear you.

It hurts me to say it (the dark voice rumbles on, unapologetically) but he is the worst mixture of prey and predator. You would have thought he had so much potential. At least there's Ferran - now she will be someone. 

The words of his parents are too far off even for Firen's wolf ears to catch, but they reach his mind all the same. The young warg's thoughts were rarely his own. But what he hears does not surprise him or shake him. This was a refrain his father found some morbid comfort in repeating. It had burned him harshly the first time he understood it, but now it does little more than causing the dark figure to rustle in his half-sleep, flopping from one side to the other in the humid air of endless summer. 

This was no place for a wolf. 

A boulder of obsidian shelters Firen from all but the keenest of eyes. Tall grasses sway hypnotically above him as he uneasily rests with half-lidded eyes. He sighs, uncomfortable with the silence once his parents are out of range. His mind reaches for other minds beyond those of Levi and Rapture as he drifts, hoping for thoughts to fill the void. Sad or playful, devout or lustful - anything to distract him from the lurking realization that he seemed to be lacking in every way. 

@[jenger] or @[insane] maybe?