disengaging from the management rail

Unatsikanogeni Adahy · 07-27-2012, 09:59 PM

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Freedom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Actually, in a sense, Unatsi had always been free; it wasn’t like he was a prisoner of war or a born slave or something like that. He’d always been able of going out on his own, fleeing the old Tribe whenever he wanted, just about whatever he could dream of. The only problem was that he’d never have the guts to do anything like that, especially after dishonoring himself; he’d felt caged, and that was enough to distress him.

Now the former warrior had a new start, a new life, in AniWaya—and the perceived freedom to walk around in the neutral territories whenever he wanted, just to look at stuff, or maybe even meet someone from outside the Tribe, or maybe he’d have another walkabout-worthy epiphany and suddenly be a good farmer. It was all well and good, actually, except for one detail.

Freedom was boring.

The red wolf flopped moodily down among some ferns, his too-big ears falling back against his long skull. He was sure there was plenty of adventurous stuff out there, and shiny things to poke at, but there was so much freedom as to be overwhelming. He sighed, squirming onto his back so his pale stomach was exposed to the hot but clouded skies, legs splayed in a devil-may-care gesture. Some ferocious monster could come down and tear out his entrails if they wanted, and play jump-rope, and then hogtie him before he even cared.

Actually, that wasn’t a nice thought. Unatsi flipped onto all four spindly legs with a spring, hoping to land with grace, but instead he hit his white shoulder on a tree and winced. He was making a blasted fool out of himself. The smell of other animals—one of a hundred wapiti, some loners, some of his own pack and distant ones—floated around him with varying freshness. Maybe he could waltz up to one of them and introduce himself, and maybe pretend his name was Bob and that he was from the area, and casually talk about the weather and—

“Oh, who am I even kidding?” the Tsulvwisdanehi mumbled, green eyes flicking to the shadows of the ferns. As always having no qualms just sitting there talking to himself, he continued by planting his ass on the ground and letting his tongue wag. “I mean, Bob? What kind of name is Bob? Well, actually, has a bit of a ring to it, that—nice and to the point. Not like Unatsi-kanogeni-is-too-long-of-a-name.” He blinked, cracked a grin, twitched, and then proceeded to bow his head in defeat and shame. “I cannot live like this.”

Word Count → 444

When I don't know what to write for Una, I ramble! Or, he rambles for me. :| I love having a character I don't take seriously.

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