Shadows cast across the grasses that were beneath his feet. In two leg form, one couldnt tell of his Lycan heritage. Liquid tawny eyes, hardened, cast into observant and hidden chips of flint. There as truely no goal for today, other then the Lycan to be by himself. You'd have to admit, that he was a rather handsome fellow, 19 in human skin- standing about 6'4 and well muscled thanks to an active past. But he was an outcast. His human skin was natrually akward, and if you exaimined closely, you'd see the akwardness that settled on his body. But who could blame him? Truth was the beast didnt know he was truely half man until a few months ago. He had been raised and taught in wolf form, grown up as a wolf, in a wolf pack, killed and chased, ran and played like a wolf, not once occuring to him that he was man. But alas when his brother announced it, Syn discovered it true. Now his own identity was confusing.

Quickening his pace, he suddenly was overwhelmed. He longed for something, some touch, some talk anything. Syn felt like he was in a dream, a really awful overbearing dream, where demons chased him through some maze, eternally cutting him off from any and all civilization. He couldnt stand it, and charactaristically he curled his lip and groaned, or at least attempted to growl. Then he just started running, slowly gaining speed without meaning too, until he was at full throttle, and soaring over the ground, muscles pumping and working in rythem. Part of him screamed to change, to allow four pawed grace to overtake him, the other part simply thudded out, urging him to keep running. Just keep running...