08-18-2009, 11:39 PM
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Footsteps chased each other out to the tide pool, stopping abrubtly beneath a silvery wolf. His knees made craters in the soft, watery sand, and as he kneeled he peered intently at the strip of water before him. Hermit crabs scuttled about, seeming quite content with the little bit of sun that could penetrate the shallow depth of the water the tide left behind. A large hand was settled in the water to keep him propped up, the golden eyes belonging to the same creature following the random paths of crabs with an intense curiosity and very whole joy. These beasts were very strange things, haven stolen their little houses from the animals that made them in the first place (maybe a little unjust, but Hemming found it quite ingenious anyway), their tiny antennae poking out from their awfully strange heads. One crab would, occasionally, scuttle across Hemming's hand, and he would not pull it away. Their little legs were strange feeling but gentle, and it was the wolf that was disturbing their habitat and he would accept that they were touching him in return. Anyway, he kind of liked it. Their contact, as alien as it may be, made him feel more a part of the world he belonged to. The summer had been strange for him. It was the first time that the male had lived in a group in many years, and the very first time, ever, that he had felt like he belonged there. Belonging was such a strange feeling, and such a joyous one at that. For once, others could help him and teach him, and for once, Hemming could return the favour. It was such a pleasant arrangement, and the wolf didn't see himself leaving it any time soon. A pack wolf he had been made into, and a pack wolf he would stay. Such a life was far more appealing than one lived alone. |