SUNSHINE RIPTIDE — JOINING

[Narmen.]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]☼☼☼ The boy walked with a bright smile on his maw and a twinkle in his eyes. Around his neck was a red, torn bandana, clearly something old and used. It was a keepsake of his, an object passed down from father to son over many generations. His father had kept up with the tradition, but he never treated Narmen as his own. It was unfortunate that things ended the way they did. Narm was a kind individual, always bright and sunny. Deep down, however, something stirred within him, churning in an thick, inky brew. He never acted on this though, unless absolutely necessary. This was rarely the case with the exception of his father and his demise. Narmen released a laugh, the noise arising from seemingly nowhere. His thoughts often cascaded, flowing from one to another. It often left him grinning, enjoying himself despite others not knowing exactly why. Though he was an amiable individual, people often found him odd and for what reason, he did not know. He was young and inexperienced, and it reflected in his naive, almost air-headed personality.

With a hum, Narm continued on his makeshift path, maneuvering around objects obstructing his view. He was light on his feet, and knew how to avoid situations if necessary. It was a crucial skill to have, especially in a group like the Typhoon, which he was unaware of. He knew there were groups, but he was ignorant to their names, traditions, and so on. Narmen couldn't say he was particularly interested in joining one, but he supposed if the opportunity was proposed, he might take them up on the offer.

It was when he caught an unfamiliar scent that he slowed his pace, amber optics flickering to watch the horizon. His ears were pricked forward and he appeared alert, yet a smile remained on his lips. It did not, however, reach his eyes as it once did before. Eventually, he was brought to a halt when a scent-line came to his attention, the smell growing more pungent the closer he got to it. The smell wasn't particularly bad, but he didn't find it especially pleasing either. The sea breeze wafted through the area. How he had stumbled upon the railroad tracks was beyond him, though he supposed he hadn't been paying too close of attention to notice his surroundings. He shook his head at himself, a roll of his eyes soon following suit. Narmen didn't dare cross over and follow the tracks further to what appeared to be an island, hesitation and reluctance holding him back. "Hellooo? Anyone there? Not too sure where I got myself," the lanky wolf called out, a Western hint to his voice, admitting that he was a bit lost. Perhaps someone would come along to help him, though doubt plagued his mind. He briefly pondered moving on, turning back and trotting away from the scent-line, but something kept him grounded.