in the night, i hear 'em talk

Vesper · 03-17-2012, 06:06 PM

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the coldest story ever told

Word Count :: 466
Aw, sucks this will turn depressing. I had fun reading your post and writing mine.

Even as she lay in wait, pale blue eyes fixated on the grazing creatures, claws came down to tug the silver ring in her ear. She thrashed her head then froze as she realized that small movement could have given her away, but none of the mountain goats seemed to notice. Her lip curled back, revealing a tooth to the raven that had swooped down to bother her, but Stark only hissed. “Wolf coming, hunting goat. Boy watching. Getting easy meal, eating leftovers.” He hobbled around at her feet then flapped off again, leaving her to ponder his suggestion.

Spoken like a true scavenger, Stark, Vesper thought with a crooked grin. She was an extremely proud creature, but her vanity did not inhibit her survival when it came to getting meals. Spending half her life as a loner taught her not to turn her nose up at abandoned carcasses. Perhaps for the first time, she wished whoever the “wolf” was luck in catching a meal.

Destiny was not kind to her or her fellow hunter, however. A tan-white shape burst from the rocks and flew toward a smaller goat, and the silent watcher almost thought he’d be able to catch the surprised nanny. However, his foreleg crumpled underneath him, and he went tumbling down the slope, his body landing in the grass only a few feet in front of her.

A pair of hot-colored eyes stared at her as she stared back, and something about his gaze was funny because her stomach clenched. When he rolled over and started cackling for no reason, however, the female leaped onto all fours and snarled, his senseless mirth spiking her fur up.

“Well, I’m glad you think it was funny,” the Optio scolded darkly. “You scared all the goddamn goats off so I can’t even get a bite.” She snorted and looked up at the circling raven, knowing that Stark was probably amused as well. Had she not put so much faith in the stranger, she would have been ready to burst from her hiding place and capture the goat he’d chased toward her.

Angry at herself, the rotten featherbrain, and the lolling male before her, the slender coywolf stamped out into the grass and plopped her rear down stubbornly. She doubted someone who was getting in a giggle fit over such a grand failure would be a danger to her. Nonetheless, she found her gaze flicking back to him, noting traces of coyote in his features and noting now the scars that adorned him. He looked like he’d gotten into a really bad scrap; something had raked blades or claws across his face and injured the leg that had betrayed him.

“You get those sliding down similar mountains?” she asked, just because she was grumpy and not thinking.

somewhere far along this road, she lost her soul.

Image courtesy of ChainBound

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