It seemed that for the majority of his life, Ran had spent his time closer to civilized beings then most of his kind would, although he always seemed to wander, quite literally, back to more feral roots every now and again. Over the past few months, that is exactly what had happened; having simply up and disappearing to wander north to where the large feline still kept a den and a sizable portion of territory. Such things he did without warning and a word spoken to anyone.
Only when the snow began to melt at his northern home, nearly a hundred or so miles to the north of the tavern and relatively higher elevations, did he begin to return. The trek was slow, only covering about ten or so miles a day, occasionally less when he stopped to hunt. Rarely did he think about why he left on that occasion or why he had gotten into the habit of never speaking a word when he did leave. Far from a difficult thing to reason out, too many times had people whom he had cared about dissappeared, died or left as he did.
That was the last thing he thought about before laying down to to sleep on the last leg of his journey south, back to the tavern. The next morning, those words had slipped from his mind. Rising slowly to all fours, taking a moment to shake the whole of his form and to stretch out both hind and forelegs. Spending several long minutes eating what remained of his most recent kill before beginning to walk again.
He didn't bother thinking about how old he was anymore, quite honestly he had stopped counting the years, the only thing he was sure of was that he was beginning to get a bit older. In human terms, he couldn't have been past his mid-thirties...oh well. The flat of the tigers head was used to press open the back door of the Maritime, keeping it open long enough for his form to slip inside soundlessly; leaving the only noise the door closing. There wasn't a moment taken to take in his surroundings, he'd been here countless times and knew every inch of the place by heart.
With only a sigh escaping the lips of his muzzle, his head lowered and his form slipped up the staircase to his own room, where the door was promply shut. Here, he would nap.
----
When he woke and made his way downstairs several hours later, he happened to run into Vic and a rather odd discussion was had. It was certainly nice to see him again, even if Harry had died or disappeared, still it was comforting to see a friendly face and know that some of the same people were still around.
Ran didn't really have any possessions, save for a bathrobe given to him one Christmas, a potbellied stove and a small doll he had made for someone out of the skins of rabbits...that was to give to Dante if he ever came back. Ah well...without any further thoughts of the days events, large paws brought the tigers form out of the tavern and to the docks where he settled for a time. Here he decided to watch the sun set and the stars brighten.
Only when the snow began to melt at his northern home, nearly a hundred or so miles to the north of the tavern and relatively higher elevations, did he begin to return. The trek was slow, only covering about ten or so miles a day, occasionally less when he stopped to hunt. Rarely did he think about why he left on that occasion or why he had gotten into the habit of never speaking a word when he did leave. Far from a difficult thing to reason out, too many times had people whom he had cared about dissappeared, died or left as he did.
That was the last thing he thought about before laying down to to sleep on the last leg of his journey south, back to the tavern. The next morning, those words had slipped from his mind. Rising slowly to all fours, taking a moment to shake the whole of his form and to stretch out both hind and forelegs. Spending several long minutes eating what remained of his most recent kill before beginning to walk again.
He didn't bother thinking about how old he was anymore, quite honestly he had stopped counting the years, the only thing he was sure of was that he was beginning to get a bit older. In human terms, he couldn't have been past his mid-thirties...oh well. The flat of the tigers head was used to press open the back door of the Maritime, keeping it open long enough for his form to slip inside soundlessly; leaving the only noise the door closing. There wasn't a moment taken to take in his surroundings, he'd been here countless times and knew every inch of the place by heart.
With only a sigh escaping the lips of his muzzle, his head lowered and his form slipped up the staircase to his own room, where the door was promply shut. Here, he would nap.
----
When he woke and made his way downstairs several hours later, he happened to run into Vic and a rather odd discussion was had. It was certainly nice to see him again, even if Harry had died or disappeared, still it was comforting to see a friendly face and know that some of the same people were still around.
Ran didn't really have any possessions, save for a bathrobe given to him one Christmas, a potbellied stove and a small doll he had made for someone out of the skins of rabbits...that was to give to Dante if he ever came back. Ah well...without any further thoughts of the days events, large paws brought the tigers form out of the tavern and to the docks where he settled for a time. Here he decided to watch the sun set and the stars brighten.