06-07-2009, 02:46 PM
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Fuck, growled the mountain.
Well, in fact, it hadn't been the mountain at all. The voice had merely been loudly spoken and sour, as if it should have been the mountain who spoke. Rather, it was a small coyote kid who was walking, her plain purple sundress ripped and travel-worn, a knapsack over her shoulder with essentials her mother had given her sitting on a nearby rock.
The Luperci herself was in as sorry a state as her clothing suggested. The bottoms of her feet were tender and sore; blood poked at the mountain face a little from where she had stepped prior, though only small, inconspicuous spots of it. Her shoulders slumped pathetically, and her eyes were squinted hard against the Nova Scotia sunshine. The sound of the sea pounding the shore not too far from there was evident, but hushed, as if the mountain wanted precedence over the petty waters.
Sadly, Akando couldn't care less for any of it. She sat down heavily near her back, sighing, and glared down the mountain face. Fuck you.
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