<br/><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_u"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">)+( <span class="bbc_u">Mute</span> )+(</span></span></strong><br/><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">The Furtive Spook</span></em><br/><em><span class="bbc_u">Location:</span></em> Main Densites, Kiowa Territory.<br/><em><span class="bbc_u">Company:</span></em> N/A. <br/><em><span class="bbc_u">Perimeter Sense:</span></em> Vitani and Bhaltair. <br/><em><span class="bbc_u">Rank:</span></em> Kiowa Ingyanga <br/><em><span class="bbc_u">Theme:</span></em> -----</div><br/><br/><br/><strong> "I see them, the souls that struggle with the dark...</strong><br/><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk6/Xxpeppermint_skittlezxX/The Wolves/For Others/B14.1_zpstzysuyqr.jpg)</div>"Mute."<br/>"Mute."<br/>"Mute."<br/>"Mute~"<br/>"YOU F*****G KILLED ME, MUTE!"<br/><br/>The dwarfed Ingyanga awoke, yet again, from his sudden doze with a worried jolt. A feint whimper on his lips as his eyes hurriedly scanned around his burrow. The movement was so sudden, the cardinal perched on his head fell off before taking to the air in a panic. Pecado's voice. It...felt so close. In fact, Mute was certain he could have been standing in front of him. A heavy sigh escaped his muzzle before his head laid back down; assisted by the weighty bags under his eyes. Oh what he'd give for a proper, undisturbed siesta. Ever since his return to the den site, it had been a struggle to sleep for more than one to two hours unabated.<br/><br/>Perhaps...it was his sins weighing him down with a burdening unrest.<br/><br/>...sometimes he swore he could feel his sins crawling on his back.<br/><br/>Once again, the gentle breeze carried Vitani and Bhaltair's voices to his ears. This caused them to alternate a few times as his tail thumped at the recognition. Yet, as hard as he tried to zone in on their conversation, it was a futile effort. He could scarcely make out a few words here and there. To be honest, feeling so helpless was not a state of mind he was used to. Thus, as a result, not being able to watch and listen to the standard living of his packmates made him feel more alienated. He had no clue Izora was dead...no one had informed him yet. No talk of the Elder Moon had reached him yet either. Now, little did Kiowa's Furtive Spook know, that he was feeling akin to humans stuck in hospital beds due to severe injury or illness.<br/>As a practitioner of medicine, Mute related with the concept of healing being restricted by time and patience. Yet, time was so often mistaken as an adversary to the living: who clung to life and often took the minutes for granted. What's more, Tsuki hadn't come back yet. He worried if she was okay. They were supposed to have their talk tonight; however he was beginning to get nervous. How was he going to show her he appreciated her? With that thought, Mute covered both of his eyes with his paws. A silent groan escaped his mouth.<br/><br/>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><div style="text-align: right;"><strong> ...I see them, my silence beckons them, yet they do not come.</strong></div>