Put a Price, put a price on her soul

[Anu]

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all welcome, inspired by my current weather.
Shattered Coast

It was warm, the type of warmth that wrapped itself around you and made it hard to breath. She wished to grow gills, hoping to convert the moisture that hung in the air into oxygen. It stuck to her fur, and made every movement tiresome and full of effort. It was odd, like the weather had changed so quickly with a viscous vengeance. Summer had not forgotten the comfort of spring, and Anu knew it was a jealous season, sweeping in with a horrible intolerance. The small Crimson Dreams wolfess wandered outside of the boarders, early morning and with a very little on her mind. She walked eastward, paying little attention to the changing scenery. Fears had dwindled, and she no longer spent nights patrolling the boarder in search of a shadowed wolf. She slept well at night, dreams filled with promises and wished. Anu woke smiling some mornings, alone in her small room of the pack’s Manor. But as she trod softly on the sticky summer grass her mind drifted only softly along tedious and easy thoughts, neither bringing a smile or frown.

Then it came, the brewing clouds could hold their creation no more. It spilled over their pillow like bodies and fell to the ground. The rain flowed in sheets, covering and soaking her thin fragile form in an instant. The wolfess looked up, squinting at the water that pierced her eyes. Ears fell to her head, and the called of raindrops hitting leaves and then dashing towards the ground filled her mind. It quieted her heart, hushed her thoughts and left her empty. She smiled. The sensation of humidity no longer suffocating her. She could breath in the summer storm. It covered her, outlining her body in a halo of light. Creation was in the rain, a violent downpour that brought life to all that possessed it. But as violent as the gift was given, it was absorbed slowly and gently into the earth, and when full ran with a graceful ease into the rivers and lakes. Anu stood still under its gracious hand, feeling as thankful for it as the thirsty world was. It was washed away; as the hand of life caressed her with drop after drop she felt it all just wash away.

made by james [/html]

[Merit Acidic]

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mall-caps;">don't be surprised if we destroy it

He hated humidity. He hated heat, in general, actually; the feeling of security, comfort and content that most felt as a result of pleasant, sunny, warm weather was not felt by him. The feeling of the warm sun upon his dark fur was unappreciated; the sensation did not calm him. Instead, he became irritated as his body warmed and his fur captured the heat. When humidity was added to the mix, making it hard to breathe, causing the inside of his lungs to feel sticky and thick, it was needless to say that he was even more unpleasant. The male preferred the cold; autumn and winter were when he was most content. At those times of the year, humidity did not plague you; instead it would turn to frost, snow, slush or rain. It did not linger, there was no lasting feeling of discomfort within his own chest.


The rain, he enjoyed. He liked the noise of it, the darkness that accompanied it, and the nice feeling of raindrops on his back. He would gladly run around in the rain, for no other reason than just because; and he was doing so, then. Not running, exactly, but moving through the rain easily, his vibrant eyes narrowed to protect them. His entire coat was nearly black due to the darkening properties of the water and the lack of light.

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