Post by DragonMossstar on Sept 16, 2009 17:41:39 GMT -5
Thought we needed a story here on Mugurar.
A long time ago in the wilderness of the worlds...
There lived a wolf. She was brave, kind, compassionate, and seemed determined with everything, which often led to stubbornness.
But often, that quality didn't show because there was simply no way for her to actually be determined. So a lot of wolves thought she was perfect.
She did not live on Mugurar, but in Mexico, for she was a Mexican Wolf. With a grey pelt, brown ears, legs, and the top of her muzzle, Venali was the pride of her pack.
Her eyes were big and deep, an understanding yellow, and her belly was white. She had a small, lithe frame, making her seem a weakling to other wolves.
But now she was walking along the shore of a beach, wishing she did not live where she did. She did not like her home, because the males were always around her, wanting this or that, but she did not. She just simply swept past them like a gust of wind.
Then, as she stood on the beach with longing in her heart, to her surprise, the water seemed to rise. Slowly, it took the shape of a wolf. A very large one.
Am I going crazy? Venali wondered.
"Look far, young one," said the wolf of water. It had a face a mouth, and eyes. It actually seemed to have shape. Venali fantasized that it had a little color in it too. "And have faith," The wolf continued, "Because there is a place, far from here, where the spirit of wolves shall never die..."
"Where?" Venali asked, "Where can I find this place?
"It is called Mugurar Island, and can only be found in your heart, young wolf," The wolf said, and then the water flopped back into the sea.
"He must be joking," Venali said, "Or I am going crazy."
....To be continued....
A long time ago in the wilderness of the worlds...
There lived a wolf. She was brave, kind, compassionate, and seemed determined with everything, which often led to stubbornness.
But often, that quality didn't show because there was simply no way for her to actually be determined. So a lot of wolves thought she was perfect.
She did not live on Mugurar, but in Mexico, for she was a Mexican Wolf. With a grey pelt, brown ears, legs, and the top of her muzzle, Venali was the pride of her pack.
Her eyes were big and deep, an understanding yellow, and her belly was white. She had a small, lithe frame, making her seem a weakling to other wolves.
But now she was walking along the shore of a beach, wishing she did not live where she did. She did not like her home, because the males were always around her, wanting this or that, but she did not. She just simply swept past them like a gust of wind.
Then, as she stood on the beach with longing in her heart, to her surprise, the water seemed to rise. Slowly, it took the shape of a wolf. A very large one.
Am I going crazy? Venali wondered.
"Look far, young one," said the wolf of water. It had a face a mouth, and eyes. It actually seemed to have shape. Venali fantasized that it had a little color in it too. "And have faith," The wolf continued, "Because there is a place, far from here, where the spirit of wolves shall never die..."
"Where?" Venali asked, "Where can I find this place?
"It is called Mugurar Island, and can only be found in your heart, young wolf," The wolf said, and then the water flopped back into the sea.
"He must be joking," Venali said, "Or I am going crazy."
....To be continued....