03-06-2012, 01:02 AM
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Wild POST appeared!
Word count is 602.
▼ ▼ ▼
Five minutes. It had been five minutes hence he'd lain him down to sleep, and already there was a disturbance. Were the gashes in the snow and soil not enough? You'd think that nobody around here could read. River turned his head to look at, or perhaps glare at, the intruder, peering groggily through one hazy blue eye. It was only a crow, apparently doing its damndest to carry on the legacy of roosters, the strange-looking birds that humans had kept to awaken them at stupid o'clock in the morning. 'What do?' was the question, and "Ergh," was the reply. River, who had a few months yet before he'd reach physical maturity and as such was growing very fast, was not terribly good at waking up before he was ready to. And that was on a good day — for example, one on which he had not been traveling all night the night before, and on which he had not been woken up by an errant crow. 'Whatever,' he thought, shifting positions so that one fluffy cheek was squished against his left arm. He might have been more comfortable sleeping in Lupus, but he'd only been able to transition between forms for a couple of months, and was not yet adept at it. To try just then would take energy that he didn't have.
The swarthy corvid continued to hover near his head, looking inquisitive, but said nothing else. River closed his eyes, in an attempt to overcome the alertness delivered unto him. Daybreak was insinuating itself into the cave, the shadows within becoming an ombré of muted blues and purples. River's gray pelt reflected them, an asset against additional disruptions, or so one might think. The crow's talons scratched the rock beneath it as it hopped, once, and emitted a soft and questioning 'krr?' A moment later, River was snarling crankily as his rest was again interrupted, this time by another wolf pouncing on him in a manner most undignified. No... evidently, no one around here could read. "Ngh," he said, in response to the giggling apology from the wolf behind him. He rolled over, squinting against the light to look at her.
Clearly, she was in cahoots with the bird, as it was now glancing over her head, startled. She had a dusty blonde coat that appeared to be a little thinner than his own. He considered the size and shape of her ears and face, and determined with some disgruntled interest that she was of blood that he hadn't often encountered. As his sight adjusted to the brightness emanating from the cave's entrance, he noticed more detail — her mane was curly, and her turquoise eyes smiled at him as much as her mouth did. She looked soft and happy, and beautiful. River wasn't sure how to react. His uncle's words drifted through his consciousness. Befriend someone with a good heart... He was no fool, however. Talia looked soft and happy and beautiful, and that hadn't ever meant anything good. "Hi, Grace," he said, drowsiness and a little sarcasm coloring his voice, "and Taj." It was odd, he supposed, that a crow had talked to him. Having never tried to hold a conversation with a bird, he wouldn't have known. Grace seemed adamant about holding a conversation with him, though, so he grudgingly rescinded the notion of repose. "I'm someone who was up all night and was just getting to sleep before you and your crow stopped me," he disclosed, cross. Then, softening, he made an effort to be polite, whether or not it was deserved. "River. Good morning."
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Word count is 602.
Five minutes. It had been five minutes hence he'd lain him down to sleep, and already there was a disturbance. Were the gashes in the snow and soil not enough? You'd think that nobody around here could read. River turned his head to look at, or perhaps glare at, the intruder, peering groggily through one hazy blue eye. It was only a crow, apparently doing its damndest to carry on the legacy of roosters, the strange-looking birds that humans had kept to awaken them at stupid o'clock in the morning. 'What do?' was the question, and "Ergh," was the reply. River, who had a few months yet before he'd reach physical maturity and as such was growing very fast, was not terribly good at waking up before he was ready to. And that was on a good day — for example, one on which he had not been traveling all night the night before, and on which he had not been woken up by an errant crow. 'Whatever,' he thought, shifting positions so that one fluffy cheek was squished against his left arm. He might have been more comfortable sleeping in Lupus, but he'd only been able to transition between forms for a couple of months, and was not yet adept at it. To try just then would take energy that he didn't have.
The swarthy corvid continued to hover near his head, looking inquisitive, but said nothing else. River closed his eyes, in an attempt to overcome the alertness delivered unto him. Daybreak was insinuating itself into the cave, the shadows within becoming an ombré of muted blues and purples. River's gray pelt reflected them, an asset against additional disruptions, or so one might think. The crow's talons scratched the rock beneath it as it hopped, once, and emitted a soft and questioning 'krr?' A moment later, River was snarling crankily as his rest was again interrupted, this time by another wolf pouncing on him in a manner most undignified. No... evidently, no one around here could read. "Ngh," he said, in response to the giggling apology from the wolf behind him. He rolled over, squinting against the light to look at her.
Clearly, she was in cahoots with the bird, as it was now glancing over her head, startled. She had a dusty blonde coat that appeared to be a little thinner than his own. He considered the size and shape of her ears and face, and determined with some disgruntled interest that she was of blood that he hadn't often encountered. As his sight adjusted to the brightness emanating from the cave's entrance, he noticed more detail — her mane was curly, and her turquoise eyes smiled at him as much as her mouth did. She looked soft and happy, and beautiful. River wasn't sure how to react. His uncle's words drifted through his consciousness. Befriend someone with a good heart... He was no fool, however. Talia looked soft and happy and beautiful, and that hadn't ever meant anything good. "Hi, Grace," he said, drowsiness and a little sarcasm coloring his voice, "and Taj." It was odd, he supposed, that a crow had talked to him. Having never tried to hold a conversation with a bird, he wouldn't have known. Grace seemed adamant about holding a conversation with him, though, so he grudgingly rescinded the notion of repose. "I'm someone who was up all night and was just getting to sleep before you and your crow stopped me," he disclosed, cross. Then, softening, he made an effort to be polite, whether or not it was deserved. "River. Good morning."