Counting Down the Hours

Falgar · 02-16-2011, 10:39 AM

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OOC: This happens some days later after all the snowstorm plot. Maybe February 11 or 12.

WC: 600+

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A light breeze slowly ran through the winter environment, calmly swaying the trees that would still stand and the few grass that wasn’t already covered up in a thick layer of old snow. Even with the storm now long gone there was still the aftermath, yet it could in no way be as harmful as the snowstorm the territory had gone through some days ago.

A lone leafless tree slowly dancing with the cold wind, its trunk slightly bended not only by the same element but because of the grey from that was leaning against it. He had waited on that tree for quite some time, unsure on where to go as he was currently lost. His right hand was protected by the other, moving as carefully as possible to avoid the broken limb to hurting him further.

Falgar had hoped to find someone by now but there was only himself, lost in a now irreconcilable place as it had been assaulted by the fierce winds. He had been wandering for quite some time but then he had found it useless, the only thing he was getting with it was to get lost further. Once loud voice was already lost at the constant shouts and howls he had given to the sky and wind, now it was only a raspy and ghostly reflection of his old voice.
Resting against the strong tree seemed as his only option right now, being on what seemed to be on the only standing tree on the area seemed as the easiest way to be found, but what if he had already gone out of the territories bounds? He only hoped not.

A nasty mood had been assaulting him for quite some time now, being more noticeable on his deep frown and the constant angry mumbling that came from him. It was rather common to see he like this after spending a prolonged amount of time on his Optime form, but he was currently stuck on it. He was practically useless in either of his four-legged forms, his broken hand made sure of that. Life what such a funny thing, getting him stuck like this.
On top of everything he had left all his stuff back on the abandoned house he had been using as refuge, must likely gone and in pieces by now. If only he had taken his stuff with him as he should had he would at least have something to survive with, his medical supplies and some provisions had been left in it.

As the pain on his throat started to ebb away he gave another try at howling, a raspy and low groan being the only thing that came out. And so he was trapped in the middle of who knows where and injured, his splinter injuries were slowly reopening with each single movement while letting a small trickle of blood coming out of it. The splinters he had been able to remove before the pain overwhelmed him laid carelessly discarded on his feet, a rather senseless action as he could stab his own feet with the wooden little demons.

For what seemed to be the thousand time on the day he lifted his head to the sky, letting his nose to search for any scent that was not of his own blood or of the fallen wood and snow. If there was something on the area he could not find it, sense of smell numbed by the cold a long time ago. The only thing he had left was to wait, doing everything possible to not let his fatigue overcome him and get him into a sleep he may not awaken.

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