09-01-2012, 07:21 PM
It was pouring rain.
The clouds were so dark and dense they challenged Vlad's mane in color—the shade of the heavens was so close to black it was ridiculous. The large thunderhead had covered the Earth in a black blanket, and the dense forest was utterly dark. One could've easily mistaken the time of day as nighttime, but in reality, it was scarcely close to the setting of the sun. Not to mention the loud claps of thunder resounding in the thick woods, which caused Vladislava to flinch every time it happened. The cold rain, too, was also equally as troubling: even under her make-shift shelter of leafy and sturdy tree branches and limbs she was shivering from the precipitation. The only moments of light came every few seconds when the bright lightning danced across the sky, and lit up the forest for a brief millisecond. However, something was telling her this storm wasn't going to let up anytime soon.
"Ужас."
The Russian woman was miserable. Why she had to get caught up in this mess, she did not know, but she was not at all enjoying herself. She didn't want to leave her little shelter of tree limbs, though, in fear that she would only worsen the situation by walking even deeper into the heart of the storm rather than out of it. Rather, although begrudgingly, Vladislava sat uncomfortably under her branches, holding them over her head with both hands tiredly. Her arms were beginning to ache, she was soaking wet, she couldn't see, and worst of all, she was hungry. It was not a pleasant afternoon, not one bit.
The clouds were so dark and dense they challenged Vlad's mane in color—the shade of the heavens was so close to black it was ridiculous. The large thunderhead had covered the Earth in a black blanket, and the dense forest was utterly dark. One could've easily mistaken the time of day as nighttime, but in reality, it was scarcely close to the setting of the sun. Not to mention the loud claps of thunder resounding in the thick woods, which caused Vladislava to flinch every time it happened. The cold rain, too, was also equally as troubling: even under her make-shift shelter of leafy and sturdy tree branches and limbs she was shivering from the precipitation. The only moments of light came every few seconds when the bright lightning danced across the sky, and lit up the forest for a brief millisecond. However, something was telling her this storm wasn't going to let up anytime soon.
"Ужас."
The Russian woman was miserable. Why she had to get caught up in this mess, she did not know, but she was not at all enjoying herself. She didn't want to leave her little shelter of tree limbs, though, in fear that she would only worsen the situation by walking even deeper into the heart of the storm rather than out of it. Rather, although begrudgingly, Vladislava sat uncomfortably under her branches, holding them over her head with both hands tiredly. Her arms were beginning to ache, she was soaking wet, she couldn't see, and worst of all, she was hungry. It was not a pleasant afternoon, not one bit.