01-20-2010, 01:29 AM
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Thread prompt 3, 409
Niir had spent quite a bit of time inside the mansion—arriving early to explore and to gather what she deemed useful. There wasn’t much left inside the decrepit building, not much that she could easily carry herself. There was a mattress she was particularly fond of, in one of the empty rooms, but she figured that she would have to save that for another day. Most of the place had already been ransacked, or was occupied, so she didn’t take much and left what she figured she didn’t need right away. Mostly she gathered linens to pad the earth and to shield the forefront of her den, the only area that remained so widely exposed. And there were other things cradled in her arms as she delicately slid down the stairs and slipped through the back door.
As she exited the back of the mansion, figuring it’d be a closer cut into the woods to get home, she paused in the glow of the setting sun. It was sinking beneath the thickest of the cold, gray clouds—but it was the icy gust of wind biting at her slight frame that made her pause. She wasn’t used to the more northern weather, let alone the sight of sheer ice over the backyard ponds that had her attention. They glimmered beneath the cold glow of the distant sun, and interested, Niir set down her things—wrapping them carefully inside a thin blanket and tucking it near a rock before dancing over to the water’s edge. The gray female crouched and brushed her slender fingers across the smooth, shiny surface. The cold was a shock, but she did not immediately draw her hand away.
Once her fingers got more used to the chill, she pressed down firmly on it, drawing her fingers away quickly as the tingling burn began. Shaking her hand, her stormy eyes peered down into the ice, but couldn’t see past the white sheen of it. She was wary of doing much more than that, but couldn’t help her curiosity from expanding, and it wasn’t long before she was walking onto the ice, pads slipping and sliding, making it difficult to stay upright. But her balance was practiced and she managed somehow before becoming unafraid of the ice breaking. It was thick, slippery, and she found momentary joy in the practice of what was called “skating”. It was evident on the soft pull of her lips into a small smile.
Niir had spent quite a bit of time inside the mansion—arriving early to explore and to gather what she deemed useful. There wasn’t much left inside the decrepit building, not much that she could easily carry herself. There was a mattress she was particularly fond of, in one of the empty rooms, but she figured that she would have to save that for another day. Most of the place had already been ransacked, or was occupied, so she didn’t take much and left what she figured she didn’t need right away. Mostly she gathered linens to pad the earth and to shield the forefront of her den, the only area that remained so widely exposed. And there were other things cradled in her arms as she delicately slid down the stairs and slipped through the back door.
As she exited the back of the mansion, figuring it’d be a closer cut into the woods to get home, she paused in the glow of the setting sun. It was sinking beneath the thickest of the cold, gray clouds—but it was the icy gust of wind biting at her slight frame that made her pause. She wasn’t used to the more northern weather, let alone the sight of sheer ice over the backyard ponds that had her attention. They glimmered beneath the cold glow of the distant sun, and interested, Niir set down her things—wrapping them carefully inside a thin blanket and tucking it near a rock before dancing over to the water’s edge. The gray female crouched and brushed her slender fingers across the smooth, shiny surface. The cold was a shock, but she did not immediately draw her hand away.
Once her fingers got more used to the chill, she pressed down firmly on it, drawing her fingers away quickly as the tingling burn began. Shaking her hand, her stormy eyes peered down into the ice, but couldn’t see past the white sheen of it. She was wary of doing much more than that, but couldn’t help her curiosity from expanding, and it wasn’t long before she was walking onto the ice, pads slipping and sliding, making it difficult to stay upright. But her balance was practiced and she managed somehow before becoming unafraid of the ice breaking. It was thick, slippery, and she found momentary joy in the practice of what was called “skating”. It was evident on the soft pull of her lips into a small smile.
table by alex.