Reminiscing on (mostly) forgotten memories

Rivers Skyeward · 04-12-2012, 05:41 PM

[html]

Word Count :: 442 You can skip the first two paragraphs >>

More thoughts ran through his head regarding his past, particularly ones revolving around the time when his parents were still alive. He and his litermates were such a nuisance to them, Rivers realized after a bit of thought. They would always mess everything up, it seemed. Or, at least, in the beginning. After figuring out his blunders were being copied by his younger siblings, Rivers learned to not interfere with his parents hunting or argue against their wishes, and his two sisters and singular brother seemed to understand.

They were truly unforgettable, his siblings. When the four lived on their own for a few months, the process of hunting, sleeping, playing and other necessities were completed in a relentless pattern. In the morning, the two brothers would hunt while the sisters would either make a fire, plan which direction to head off into next, or just sit and talk. From noon until late afternoon, it was the same as well: a nap, some play afterwards, perhaps a snack. Always at the setting of the sun would they hunt game for that night, and the break of dawn would they begin the process again, from start to finish, without a flaw. So invariable, for the lack of better words.

However, his thoughts were quickly abandoned at the scent of another, followed by the sounds of footsteps. It sounded like two different beings, both of different species, and one reeked of a pack. A wolf, or a canine of some sort. The other smelled kind of like the horses in the barns back at Anathema, though not exactly the same. Rivers couldn't recognize much more than that, but no matter. He just hoped they were nice enough not to slash his throat or jump him.

At the sight of the somewhat large, yellowish Luperci, Rivers rose from the stump. He let his hands sink into the back pockets of his jeans, letting his hand wrap around the knife he picked from a thief in the Dampwoods a few days earlier in the left pocket, just as a precaution. His two-colored eyes wandered to the pale horse the man had with him, but they soon darted back to the canine when he greeted him wholeheartedly, a grin on his muzzle. Rivers gratefully returned the smile, taking a step forward to the man, nodding. He noticed the larger male had a Southern dialect, much like his own, which might actually make the process of befriending him easier if he favored those like himself. "Howdy yourself," the grayish man replied, chuckling softly, "I don't believe I've seen you 'round these parts, friend. Got yourself a name?"

Image courtesy of miez!

Login




Remember me Lost Password?