The days are growing darker.

Frodo Silvertongue · 12-17-2011, 11:10 AM

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SQUEAK. Rats are cute. set EDIT: late night

It had been a pleasurable experience the last time he’d been here, and it’d given off quite a few memories. So the man was at ease as he loped into the damp woods, a skinny man with a fat creature on his shoulder. Squeak! said the creature. Frodo cast it a sideways glance at waggled his eyebrows at it, grinning just a little. Squeak! it squeaked again. Now it was just showing off.. Mr Silvertongue grabbed it by the scruff and swung it onto both palms, gazing at the plump rat as he trudged through the woods. Frodo ruffled it’s head with a bony finger and tickled it under the chin, until it rolled over in excitement. Pan just loved the attention Frodo gave him. It wasn’t long before Frodo got bored of stroking the rat though, and so he shoved Pan into the inner pocket of his elven cloak, where the plump creature fell to sleep almost at once. It was an average looking rat, brown with a pink nose and beady black eyes. Frodo still hadn’t decided if he liked it or not. The creature had grown on him ever since he found it had nibbled through the majority of his food supply, but still Frodo was a little annoyed at it.

It was early in the morning as the man walked around the forest. It had been roughly two days since he’d left his pack for a little walk around and Frodo was feeling much at ease. Twitching his nose he could smell almost everything and everybody that had passed through these woods recently. Glad of being able to know something for once, Frodo was content, despite being so close to Inferni. Frodo had a certain disliking for Inferni. No, disliking wasn’t exactly the right word…hatred was better suited and altogether more presice. However, wrapped in a blue shirt that hid the scars on his back, he could forget about the ordeals that had happened earlier in the month. Also on him was the familiar chain with a ring on it, the bandana round his neck, and of course the cloak. All familiar items he didn’t think he could live without. The cloak was a bit threadbare by now, with holes in it - especially recently, courtesy of a rat that liked to nibble things - but Frodo favoured it to anything else that kept you warm.. The curly furred male ran a hand through auburn, feather covered hair, and then dropped down on a rock, hunching his narrow shoulders and knobbly knees together, so he could think. It had been a while since he’d thought to himself clearly. It had been almost impossible in AniWaya with the constant hunting that kept him going, the friends he had to keep up appointments with, but for now he could clear his head truly.

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