air[p]lanes like shooting stars.

Rook · 07-11-2011, 09:42 PM

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The coyote continued to smile, simply nodding when Barrett vaguely stated that he had no interest in the box of blankets and thanked him. Whatever worked for the yearling worked for Rook... He followed the youth towards the crushed part of the plane, studying how the metal had curled and the glass had splintered; he made sure to sidestep around the tiny, clear fragments even if the pads on his hind feet were tough enough to withstand padding over the sharp edges. Barrett stooped down to pluck something from the ground as Rook eyed the aircraft’s riveted shell. The sound of rattling caught his attention and he nodded when his companion made a comment about how the plane would have more of the little cracked objects than a car would.

While Rook had seen up close the dashboard of a bus, he had never considered the fact before now that he laid eyes on what was once the front of the plane. Interesting… A part of him wished he could have seen one of these “air buses” in flight. When Barrett vanished for a minute to deposit his newfound trinket in his little alcove, Rook peered out one of the windows, spotting something of interest. His tail wagged and when his companion reappeared, he simply replied, “Ah… I bet.” Barrett yawned and the coyote stepped out of the rumpled flying machine.

“Thank you for the tour,” he said quietly, briefly glancing toward the pile of blankets that awaited him in the distance before looking to the wolf. “A-and thanks for everything. I appreciate it.” He then brandished a sheepish smile, “D’you… you… are ya using that o’er there by chance?” A slow gesture of his hand hoped to point out one of the cargo plane’s dislodged tires which was propped up slightly by a small boulder.

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