Noah
Ever since Aisha had told Noah that Korbin was out in the tundra, living in his raven form, the hunter could not stop thinking about it. Each day since, Noah ventured out into the icy wilderness and scoured different places for the younger man. Each time he heard a bird's wings against the wind, or a call in the distance, his heart thumped against his chest like a hammer driving nails into wood. His blood would pump harder and he would run towards the sound, grunting and blowing along the way. Through the attuned bond he would reach out, calling for the Hale.
Today was no different.
He set out just after sunrise, moving away from the Citadel farther than he had gone in the last few weeks in search of the raven. He trotted along with his head low, ears rotating beneath his rack. He chose this form always, knowing that Korbin would find it most familiar. The youngest Hale had only seen him in his lynx form once, and never in his polar bear form. He did not want to be mistaken for a threat -- though, knowing Korbin as well as Noah did, he might be even in this prey-like skin. Especially if the mind of his raven form was taking over the mind of his true form, of man.
Korbin
Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?
And detached as boats to the dock?
