#williambramley

Bill basked in the warmth of the sun casting down upon his body as he rolled over in bed. On his other shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapped around a second source of heat. Was he not alone in his home? Opening his eyes with a start, he came face-to-face with a stunning young woman, smiling in her sleep. The sunshine beaming from the window gave her blonde hair an angelic glow. 

“Hmm...” he sighed with a smile, his morning voice groggy and deep. Bill couldn’t stop his hand from reaching up to caress her soft cheek. As he did, the woman’s eyes opened, a sweet grin spread across her face. His heart felt like it was about to leap from his chest. Her lips parted to say something, but instead of a gentle whisper, thunder clapped vociferously.

Bill jolted awake with a shout, propping upright on one elbow. There was no more sunshine, no more warmth. A hellish storm was raging outside, and rain pelted against his window in sheets. Hoping it wasn’t all a dream, he looked over, only to find the other half of his bed empty. No sign of a beautiful stranger, except his arousal. He felt disgusted with himself. Sure, he had had dreams he wasn’t too proud of before, but not that vivid.

//Hey everyone! I know I just got back from hiatus, but I think I already need your help.

I feel like I have been writing the same old stuff on this silly little blog. I don’t want to keep writing in the 19th century, Bill turns into a werewolf, and meets your muse, and they fall in love somehow. Sound familiar?

Anyone got ideas? Plots? Questions? Character development?

I could also just write, it doesn’t have to all be rp. Are there any stories about Bill you’d like me to tell? I’ve got a story about his father’s journal in my drafts right now.

Wilhelm burst out of the cabin, breaking the hand-carved door behind him. A mad fury propelled him to a blurring speed in the pale moonlight. He had no sense of direction, no specific destination. He simply ran and ran and ran...

//Oh my goodness! Hello all you lovelies! We just hit 100 followers recently! Amen!

Like I have said for the past few months, I am so super sorry for the inactivity! I promise I’m still here, and I’ve missed all of you guys a ton! College has been so busy (I took about 22 hours this semester because I had marching band, wind ensemble, and lessons all together). BUT GUESS WHAT. IT’S FINALS WEEK, and classes are done, and it’s my month-long break!

As of this Friday, I will have time to spend with my darlings until the second week of January! 

I hope we can get so much crap wonderful role playing done! Y’all know the drill: starting this weekend, if I haven’t already contacted you personally, shoot me a message or tag me in a starter, just to remind me of our old threads or to start a new one!

I love y’all so much!

It is tradition, that every male werewolf must pass down the legends, histories, teachings, morals, and advice of their forefathers to their offspring. It began as coal smudges on the cave walls of birthing dens, then to carved tablets, scrolls, manuscripts, and now leather-bound journals. The fathers leave their documents with the infant werewolf, before abandoning him. If the infant happens to destroy said documents, as all children do, it would simply be their own fault, and would therefore destroy their history, and their life lessons.

I still have the journal my father wrote for me. His penmanship is intricate and masculine, and it’s as if I could hear his voice when I read the stories and lessons. He copied and translated the legends from the Lupine language of his father and his father’s father. Such histories, just as lush and fascinating as human history.