06-20-2009, 05:37 PM
[html]
| http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... /raven.png); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: bottom; border:1px solid black;"> Back-dated to June 18th Word Count: 317 In a daze he stumbled over the border, taking in the smells of his family, his friends - his tribe. The scent which haunted him some nights, because it had used to cling to his parents and siblings, yet now none of them were here. Now there were only strangers, almost, except one. Heart-wrung, he lifted his maw to the skies, attempting a howl which was interrupted as he fell down, too tired to carry on. His wounds were larger than he thought, and he had lost more blood than he had expected. Or, he had not expected anything. He was alive, and he had taken a life - and that was unexpected. He'd thought he was in on it till his death, and though he had considered the consequences of him dying, he had not considered the consequences of him surviving. His breath was shallow as he closed his eyes and wished to give in to exhaustion. He could have slept it out, but he could not have stayed there - he had run the distance, and it had not made his situation better. His form curled up, as if placing his four legs closer to his stomach could make the pain and exhaustion and panic go away, but it did not. Instead, he would stay there, shaking, until she came. She had to come. She had to be here tonight. A strike of panic hit him, for what if she had chosen to be somewhere else tonight? He had never asked whether she had a lover, but that didn't mean she didn't have one. And what if she had gone to see her saltwater friend in the night? What if she could not come? The male shivered despite the heat of the summer morning - the sun was rising soon, and his red furs would then be aflame with all the colors of the dusk. |