09-10-2008, 12:15 AM
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He supposed he was better, but that had always been a fuzzy question. At the very least, he was no longer bedridden and no longer required spoon-feeding. It was raining lightly (that would, undoubtedly, change soon), but he sat outside. There wasn't much of an overhanging from the roof of the small shack, but it was enough to keep most of him dry. Presumably, if his daughter was around, she would chide him for risking a cold, but it was an understatement to say that he was sick of being inside. Ironic choice of words, too. Really, all he wanted to do was go back to that more familiar stretch of forest and sit around in his own damned house. Enough of being taken care of and sleeping on someone else's property. He had never wanted to come.
Somewhere behind all the rain and clouds, the sun was setting. He wasn't sure how he knew though. The white had not left him, but then again, neither had the sometimes-quiet cackling in his head and the feeling that there was always someone else just beyond what he could see. There were no longer any shapes, not even vague indications. It was a blank canvas and it showed nothing. Laruku could not yet dwell on the fact of his own uselessness, helplessness; he did not think about how he would no longer be able to effectively care for himself. He couldn't hunt without seeing, and he couldn't eat without hunting. It was a pathetic way to be, moreso than he had ever been before. Denial was still there, he supposed, just like it always was. He heard someone laugh.
Somewhere behind all the rain and clouds, the sun was setting. He wasn't sure how he knew though. The white had not left him, but then again, neither had the sometimes-quiet cackling in his head and the feeling that there was always someone else just beyond what he could see. There were no longer any shapes, not even vague indications. It was a blank canvas and it showed nothing. Laruku could not yet dwell on the fact of his own uselessness, helplessness; he did not think about how he would no longer be able to effectively care for himself. He couldn't hunt without seeing, and he couldn't eat without hunting. It was a pathetic way to be, moreso than he had ever been before. Denial was still there, he supposed, just like it always was. He heard someone laugh.