illuminated

[Lockeheed]

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Word Count → 247 :: This post is horrifyingly bad.

Seated beside the lowest falls of the Pictou River was Locke, and his attention was seemingly miles away. He held his dagger—the special one, not the ones scavenged from ancient army surplus shops—in a loose grip as he gazed out over the landscape that offered him serenity. His fingers brushed lazy circles across the flat of the engraved blade, occasionally pausing to skim across the designs etched there ages ago. Illegible carvings and symbols, but his all the same. The knife was a constant companion where all others failed.

A sigh broke loose from his lungs and he was once more connected to the present world. The slender male re-sheathed the knife before leaning forward to peer down at the current flowing by beneath his perch. Here, with the towering trees that lined the river banks, Locke was shielded from the relentless heat of the midday sun. But there was an added bonus as well: without the glare on the water, he could see the large shadows moving beneath the surface, indicative of fish. The summer spawning run.

He pulled his knee to his chest and began to roll the cuffs of his pants up, carefully folding them so that they would not easily come undone while he was wading. Though he'd not come here with the intention of fishing, he figured it would be an ample gift for the pack to thank them for their trust. Finishing the first, he began on the second.

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[Era]

So is this, haha. Trying to write when you have a very short amount of time to do it in and you can't focus... yeah... <___>

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He loved the way smoke curled out of his mouth and into the warm summery air. Didn't matter the substance he was smoking, Era simply loved to watch the way it curled out of his mouth. But the curling of said smoke was short lived with the way that the wind captured and drug it away. It always curbed his enthusiasm a little bit, but the notion and the feeling would be swept away in time too. It was very much like anything else he had experienced in his lifetime — feelings and thoughts were often fleeting. They were also stressful, for that matter, and perhaps it was safe to say that he had been long broken by that stress.

How he had come there was of no real story. He had come there like anyone else, he had traversed across some of that land, and now he was traversing through yet another piece of ground. The midday heat would wear him out in time, even with the canopy of the forest covering him. But Era was fine with this concept as well as he flicked the remains of an all too stale cigarette into the tall grasses; sleep would be a welcome state, whether it came from exhaustion or heat stroke. And he only thought that because he hadn't slept for days.

When a smattering of color pieced itself together through the dense cover, his curiosity piqued. Not too much for him to go straight into the fray, towards that mess of color, but enough to guide him lazily around it. He imagined he was silent though in all reality he wasn't and it was rare that any of them were. But he watched between the glances to see where he was stepping, and eventually the colors materialized into something of another being. Another canine, because there were no two-legged, tall standing felines to worry about — the ones on four were often trouble enough.

Keeping himself in that cover though, he watched and waited, intrigued by the curious behavior he was witnessing as the stranger proceeded to roll up one leg of his pants and then the other. What he was there to do, who knew? Other than him, of course. Era examined him like he would have anyone else, though there was something a bit more to his actions. He wasn't quite just observing, but he was looking to see if his fellow canine had anything worth taking, anything worth fighting for, anything that would justify an action many would simply avoid.

And if he didn't, well, no reason to provoke anything.

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