08-07-2008, 06:02 PM
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  His shoulders were hunched forward as he walked along, but his gaze was on the ground. He kicked idly at random things blocking his path--random tin cans, glass bottles that produced a unique resonant sound when they rolled across the pavement (in sharp contrast to the broken chunks of brick, which plopped down in clouds of dust and then were silent). He had his bag with him, slung over his left shoulder with his hand resting lightly on the strap to keep it from sliding off. In his right hand he loosely clung to an axe, which had proven too large to fit into his sack. His arm swayed freely in an arc as a pendulum might in time with his stride.He was thinking of Ahren and the barn. He hadn't really had much of a chance to come here since the whole war had escalated, and now he was searching for distractions. He'd gone to his secret retreat, halfway hoping to find Poe there, but the only things that stirred were the dead leaves that danced in circles across the wooden floor. He'd spotted his bag and stash of other things, and he decided that maybe practising his carpentry and use of tools would be a good distraction.That meant he had to find the right place to do so. Maybe he'd chop up some boards and nail them back together. Or... screw them, since the whole screwdriver concept would be new. Yeah, that was the plan. Was being the key word there. He stopped kicking at things and looked up when he heard someone ahead. A church was on his left; he was walking down the street to go past it. A large male was bent over something (or someone), but he couldn't quite tell what was going on yet. He drew in closer, and realised it was definitely another body--a lifeless one. His hand moved from his backpack up to his head and he scratched at the back of his neck, shrugged, and moved to keep walking past. Whatever this was, he did not want to deal with it. |