Wheeling Gull Isle bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama
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Ooc — Sabin
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#2
He was tired. How long he had trudged heavy paws through the sand after awaking on the shore he did not know, time was a fleeting thing he could no longer grasp. His memories of the events leading up to this point were fragmented -- the storm, the waves swallowing the boat like a great sea monster, dragging him down with it, filling his lungs with water as he fought to the surface and swam circles in the driving rain looking for the Man. Waking on the shore, wet and cold and disorientated. Walking, endlessly walking, searching. Driven by instinct and fierce loyalty to find the Man.  
 
Finally, he did. And for a long time he stood there, staring down at the lifeless body as the waves crashed on the shore and the rain beat down on his back. He understood, he was no stranger to death. But still he stood, waiting, as if something might change. As if he might awaken from this nightmare he had been thrust into.
 
How long he stayed there, he didn't know. The rain subsided, the ocean calmed. He chased sea-gulls from the corpse and lay in the sand guarding it until finally a hard-wired instinct to survive drove him from the location and he continued down the shoreline in search of food.  
 
And so he walked on as the sun sank low in the sky and the moon replaced it, stars glinting against a void of black. With his gaze cast down at the ground in front of him, he didn't see Coelacanth until he was almost upon her -- if it hadn't been for her sudden movement he may have missed her completely, but the flash of motion catches the corner of his eyes and snaps his gaze up, stopping in his tracks as tension flitters across his body in preparation to defend himself if need be. But the strange creature before him only creeps forward, gazing up at him with curiosity and something that he would almost think was possessiveness.
 
His ragged ears twitch forward as he stares down at the inky female, deep golden eyes weary and lost. Gradually the tension in his muscles fades and now that she has interrupted his mindless forward movement he slowly sinks to his haunches, exhaustion racking his body. He wants to ask her who she is, where this place is, but the words escape him, which isn't too out of the ordinary but exacerbated by his condition. Instead he offers her a soft chuff to convey he has no ill intentions.
Messages In This Thread
bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Coelacanth - June 17, 2017, 06:00 PM
RE: bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Stockholm - July 06, 2017, 06:52 PM
RE: bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Coelacanth - August 06, 2017, 02:27 PM
RE: bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Stockholm - August 13, 2017, 09:39 PM
RE: bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Coelacanth - August 21, 2017, 11:48 AM
RE: bermuda, bahama; come on, pretty mama - by Stockholm - October 23, 2017, 09:52 PM