08-15-2008, 08:06 AM
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His name makes me happy.
Kansas was fortunate. He could watch storms from his bedroom in the manor. The Sadira liked lying in his lupine form on the rough floor, looking up at the dingy window and watching the patterns made by rain as it tapped the glass. The fast raindrops made sounds like bullets as they hit the window, and it was almost like he was avoiding gunfire by stretching out so close to the ground while they pounded overhead. Once outside, the rain that fell just lightly kissed his shoulders, passively drenching his coat in the process. Kansas was a romantic of sorts, so walking in the rain was something he'd recently discovered as enjoyable.
The rain picked up, slanting right into his eyes. He'd shifted already, so his chest was soaked and his hair hung in his eyes - he looked ragged. He was beginning to get uncomfortable, so he was grateful when the trees thickened and the needle-covered earth dried ever so slightly beneath him. The conifers thankfully provided some protection; he hadn't wanted to go home yet. He spent too much time there (mainly in his room), and was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
The youth was surprised when the sound of a crackling fire caught his attention. Curious, he moved in the direction of the noise, and stumbled into the small campsite before he'd realized it. A gray coyote sat sharpening his knife, and the image didn't bode well with the pale boy. Oh, uh, sorry... His voice was apologetic and modest, but he was still rather anxious and hoped it didn't show.
Kansas was fortunate. He could watch storms from his bedroom in the manor. The Sadira liked lying in his lupine form on the rough floor, looking up at the dingy window and watching the patterns made by rain as it tapped the glass. The fast raindrops made sounds like bullets as they hit the window, and it was almost like he was avoiding gunfire by stretching out so close to the ground while they pounded overhead. Once outside, the rain that fell just lightly kissed his shoulders, passively drenching his coat in the process. Kansas was a romantic of sorts, so walking in the rain was something he'd recently discovered as enjoyable.
The rain picked up, slanting right into his eyes. He'd shifted already, so his chest was soaked and his hair hung in his eyes - he looked ragged. He was beginning to get uncomfortable, so he was grateful when the trees thickened and the needle-covered earth dried ever so slightly beneath him. The conifers thankfully provided some protection; he hadn't wanted to go home yet. He spent too much time there (mainly in his room), and was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
The youth was surprised when the sound of a crackling fire caught his attention. Curious, he moved in the direction of the noise, and stumbled into the small campsite before he'd realized it. A gray coyote sat sharpening his knife, and the image didn't bode well with the pale boy. Oh, uh, sorry... His voice was apologetic and modest, but he was still rather anxious and hoped it didn't show.