07-01-2008, 10:22 AM
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AW, Halifax.
It had been exactly three months now since the fire. A quarter of a year. It had taken him that long to crawl out of the empty forest and further west to where the city lay in ruins. It was nothing like the Concrete Jungle, that ever-nameless slab of cement and brick and glass that he had trekked and picked over thousands of times. Here, the skyline was different, hazier perhaps. There was more greenery snaking in and around the grey, and he could hear birds calling even from further in the city. For such a lush environment, there had been a notable absence of canines in the area when they'd arrived; thus, the other wildlife was bountiful and the songbirds were trilling loudly in the early morning glow.
The concrete felt strange under his feet, but he didn't hesitate anymore. He walked along the sidewalks in the shadows of the buildings, wandering aimlessly for the most part, though he veered away from trails that had been left by others recently. Just because he had finally come out of the forest didn't mean he was looking for social interaction. He had just missed the smell of rust and urban decay, odd as that sounded. After Clouded Tears, he had spent the most time in the city, after all. There was a small bookstore on a deserted street corner in an artsy looking part of town. He walked through the broken glass of the door, but the tiny bell still sounded as he passed through.
Cobwebs lined the floor and corners and he could see his own footprints in the inch of dust he was stepping through. There was a big red chair in a dark corner lit only by a small hole in the ceiling. There was already a book on the arm. Without another thought, he took the seat, curled up, and started reading.
It had been exactly three months now since the fire. A quarter of a year. It had taken him that long to crawl out of the empty forest and further west to where the city lay in ruins. It was nothing like the Concrete Jungle, that ever-nameless slab of cement and brick and glass that he had trekked and picked over thousands of times. Here, the skyline was different, hazier perhaps. There was more greenery snaking in and around the grey, and he could hear birds calling even from further in the city. For such a lush environment, there had been a notable absence of canines in the area when they'd arrived; thus, the other wildlife was bountiful and the songbirds were trilling loudly in the early morning glow.
The concrete felt strange under his feet, but he didn't hesitate anymore. He walked along the sidewalks in the shadows of the buildings, wandering aimlessly for the most part, though he veered away from trails that had been left by others recently. Just because he had finally come out of the forest didn't mean he was looking for social interaction. He had just missed the smell of rust and urban decay, odd as that sounded. After Clouded Tears, he had spent the most time in the city, after all. There was a small bookstore on a deserted street corner in an artsy looking part of town. He walked through the broken glass of the door, but the tiny bell still sounded as he passed through.
Cobwebs lined the floor and corners and he could see his own footprints in the inch of dust he was stepping through. There was a big red chair in a dark corner lit only by a small hole in the ceiling. There was already a book on the arm. Without another thought, he took the seat, curled up, and started reading.