the gunslinger's lament
#1
Don't mind or feel the need to match the length too much on this, I like to ramble. Plus I'm still getting a feel for Carbuncle, lulz.

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— stones in your eyes, stones in your eyes —
we live in the jar and think the lid’s the sky, you’re hoping for a saviour on your cross outside; stars are just a million little fireflies, the sun is just a hole, what is the light outside? there’s too many saviours on my cross again, i know i’m never going to be a perfect man; everyone’s an oyster with their grain of sand, i love you most in summer now it has to end.

When Carbuncle awoke, the first thing that he noticed was that it did not seem too much later than when he had actually gone to sleep. It was about as disorienting as his arrival on the southern shores. It was just as dismaying to think that he hadn’t even been asleep more than maybe five or ten minutes, but then there were the other things that seemed to say it was something else altogether. The dampness was gone from his body, as was the ache that had long plagued his back and shoulders from trying to find a less awkward way to cat nap inside of a rowboat. It was the better part of twenty minutes (a very spaced out twenty minutes) before he realised that he had quite literally slept what seemed like an entire day.


More disturbing was the notion that he had done it without being bothered. He had slept through without the feeling that he was going to be attacked or mobbed, without the feeling that he needed to stay awake on the off-chance that he would be called upon. Carbuncle couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Not that it really mattered either, because the concept that he may have been safe didn’t occur to him readily. The idea that he had actually made it all the way into whatever town this was (the name had already eluded him) without being seen or followed was bizarre. So when he made his way out of the bed and breakfast he had passed out at, he was on edge. Maybe, just maybe, they had all been waiting.


But once he was back out on the streets, the paranoia faded away, or was at the very least taken over by other things. Hunger had come to him rather quickly and behind it was thirst. His hand ached and felt warm to the skin and fur that hadn’t been burnt; his head ached with a resounding chorus from stress and strain. But it was the hunger that he attended to first and unsuccessfully to begin with. Two houses turned up nothing, but the third had given him peculiar items from an overturned and dented fridge. Canned ham and an unopened box of baking soda. Ham was a three lettered word he understood (never minding that it was twenty plus years old), but he had no idea what in the hell baking soda was. He took it anyway.


Getting the ham open was another story altogether. A metal can, one that had seen better days, but it had nothing on it that screamed to him “this is how I open!”. So he had taken it out of the house, shaking it by his ear and listening to it all the same, before resorting to bashing it against other things. Notably such racket took place from the interior of an old hardware store that had long since been gutted and torn up. He casually banged the can against shelving and once against a sawhorse before setting it on the counter at the back of the store.


But it would not open, even in light of all of the V-shaped dents and scuffed it had added to it’s lacking arsenal of decor. Beside it he had left the baking soda and the two items of better years sat together in silence. If only I had a hammer, he thought, briefly turning around to survey the empty store that looked more like the hollowed out frame of every other building he had been in like it. Box stores, his father had called them. Carbuncle had to agree with the name too — they looked like boxes from the inside. But nevertheless, he had gone back to pounding the canned ham on the edge of the counter without so much as another thought. Annoyingly so, at that.


666 words.
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#2
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WC:527(5 Points)

Liliana found herself and her horse in a town, it was not as big as Halifax, and it was on the coast, it was also pretty deserted. There was so much around her that she didn’t know, and yet she knew more than most wolves on the year’s travel with her parents. Now, she was two… had it really been that long? And she was without a family except for Aniwaya, which was becoming so close knitted, she felt safe whenever she thought of them. Liliana moved through the thickly overgrown streets, what little concrete there was, had been overturned, the streets were somewhat intact, though she could tell the plantlife would soon have taken over it in the next… well she couldn’t think that far ahead, she wouldn’t live to be that old. She wondered if she could find a treasure here, maybe something for Nayati, she always enjoyed making him smiled, but her thoughts on that were diminished as she heard a matalic banging, lots of crashing in a building, what was going on? She held up a spear that she’d borrowed from the stables, she figured she would get a rabbit on the way back from where ever she’d explored or well something tasty was to come up, but the places where humans use to live was infested with rabbits rats and birds mostly. She wouldn’t kill the sheep or anything like that, though she wanted to round some up and bring them to AniWaya with her, though she wasn’t sure if they needed sheep. The shaggy animals looked so hot in the wool fur. And they were much more skittish than the horses or cows. She was losing track of what she was doing, food later, this banging noise first. She took a deep breath and held her spear so that she wouldn’t be the first to meet the thing that was banging around if it came after her.She signaled Grace to stay where she was and then she crept up the door that the resounding noise came from, she peeked in with one eye, and saw a wolf well, it looked somewhat like a wolf, she knew a hybrid when she saw one, especially a coyote one, she’d met a few on her own travels through the souls area. He seemed to be banging a can on the table now, very frustrated? How come he wanted to open a can that hadn’t been touched in so long? It was crazy to think anyone would want to eat something from those things, it might have been part of what killed the humans.

Uh sir, do you need any assistance?

She asked, still knowing she had the spear in her hand, but it was for her protection. She didn’t know him, and even though she was use to new comers she wasn’t use to seeing them making so much noise, so it was no wonder she was a tad bit scared of this wolf. She was curious as to why he was taking all the trouble trying to open that when it would have been just so much easier to just go hunting.

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