Sometimes we make scars

Tola Dara · 03-07-2012, 05:44 PM

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Word Count → 577 :: Fore-dated to 3/9/12, for Imhotep! Big Grin

It was raining. They'd made little progress that day, only getting as far as the Pictou river from their brief jaunt to the larger Drifter Bay when the clouds opened up above them and began pouring down on their heads. Tola's first concern had been Aljan, who'd fled into one of the half-empty saddlebags to escape the falling water. Her second was Chant; the horse wouldn't be comfortable with the water falling down between the bags, so she unloaded them, and tucked them under the small ledge a rock near the river made.

It was only big enough for her luggage, plus Aleksei's, so the two were forced to stand around in the rain, Aleksei tempted to take out a cigarette and Tola huddling in on herself as the heavy rainfall soaked through her shirt and her thin fur. The older male gave up on his much-needed smoke and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the small ledge and then shoving her beneath it, hard enough to scrape her tall head against it. She gave him a warning growl, but he ignored her, and began rummaging around the marshy banks to find something to build a shelter out of. Tola pulled her legs close to her chest and tried to press herself back against the bags, but she was still half-out in the open, the water made worse by the rain falling over the ledge onto her legs.

Aleksei moved out about in the rain, holding a hand above his eyes so that he might make out any shelters in the area. There were none; the area, as far as he could see, was flat, save a rising copse of trees down the river. He didn't think they'd make it there before Tola collapsed from the cold, so with a resigned sigh he ducked in behind her and pulled out his bag, rummaging for a moment before coming up with a thick stretch of canvas. He pulled her Shepherd's crook out from behind her as well, and ignored her grumble of protest as he set the crook to lean against the ledge and threw the canvas over it. He ducked into the make-shift tent, and brushed the water still dripping from the ledge aside, shaking his hand out and then giving himself a little shake to flick the water off his fur. Tola hissed at him, shrinking back a bit, and he scoffed at her, raising an eyebrow.

"It's better'en being out in the rain, innit? So shut yer trap." He snapped, and then sighed as he saw how badly she was shivering. Maybe they shouldn't have tried to get back to Amherst in a day; Chant wasn't fast enough when she was loaded down, and neither of them were running. Reaching out to nudge Tola with a foot, he jerked his head toward his bag, still behind her, and wiggled his nose. "I got a shirt in there somewhere. Wrap up." He ordered. She wiggled a bit, somewhat uncomfortable, before turning and digging about in his bags. The shirt she brought up was a flannel, one he hadn't known he had, but she took it and set it across her somewhat-dry lap, taking off the one she had on and then quickly covering herself with his, her eyes glaring at him for watching her.

Honestly, she was such a finicky creature; he'd no idea why he stuck around.

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