@Skoll
For days, the thick furred wolfdog had been heading in one direction, the same direction she had travelled in for a month. Her paw pads were bleeding and ruined from the constant moving across harsh terrain, but the fire-eyed female did not seem to mind. Her pelt was a memento of all the places she had been, covered in mud, vegetation and other, odder things. She had come to Teekon from the north, passing through a few regions until she reached the mountains. The giant rocks had worried her, and at first she was hesitant to climb them. Rocks were, under no circumstances, to be trusted, and these giant ones could have rolled on her as soon as she set paw on them. But the overwhelming need to continue her journey had driven her over the rocks, encountering no obstacles on the way. Now she stood on a ridge, flatlands opening up in front of her. She could see huge distances in every direction, and could not wait to get off these rocks and onto the safety they offered.
Vada hesitantly placed a paw on the least steep part of the ridge she could find, teetering on the edge of the incline. Tail pointing at the sky, she tried to balance herself as she placed one paw in front of another. The bare rocks were rough, but still slippery, especially to the girl who had never encountered such things before. The cry of a crow was the final straw, and Vada, surprised, went tumbling down the hill. When she collapsed at the bottom, she turned toward the mountains and screamed in a raspy voice “Big r’acks ain’t gonta kell Vada! Vada st’ron wolf!”
Being in seclusion for much of her short life was not giving Vada’s vocabulary any boosts, and the wolfdog already spoke in an odd accent. This, combined with her sparse vocabulary made some of her sentences hard to decipher. She spun and headed quickly toward the huge lake she had spied from the top of the ridge, eager for drink.
She arrived at the lake a little while later, the ground beneath her tortured paws becoming softer and more like to ground she was used to. She ran eagerly toward the water, and straight into it’s shallow waters. She bent her head and drunk greedily, she water around her fur becoming dark as mud washed of it. She ran in deeper until her whole body was submerged, mud and vegetation and objects becoming detangled from her fur.
But suddenly, Vada felt afraid. The water was covering her, it was eating her, it was going to kill her! With a scream, she ran toward the bank, in her frantic struggles submerging her whole body a couple of times. But soon, shuddering, she made it to shore, where she collapsed in a shuddering heap.
For days, the thick furred wolfdog had been heading in one direction, the same direction she had travelled in for a month. Her paw pads were bleeding and ruined from the constant moving across harsh terrain, but the fire-eyed female did not seem to mind. Her pelt was a memento of all the places she had been, covered in mud, vegetation and other, odder things. She had come to Teekon from the north, passing through a few regions until she reached the mountains. The giant rocks had worried her, and at first she was hesitant to climb them. Rocks were, under no circumstances, to be trusted, and these giant ones could have rolled on her as soon as she set paw on them. But the overwhelming need to continue her journey had driven her over the rocks, encountering no obstacles on the way. Now she stood on a ridge, flatlands opening up in front of her. She could see huge distances in every direction, and could not wait to get off these rocks and onto the safety they offered.
Vada hesitantly placed a paw on the least steep part of the ridge she could find, teetering on the edge of the incline. Tail pointing at the sky, she tried to balance herself as she placed one paw in front of another. The bare rocks were rough, but still slippery, especially to the girl who had never encountered such things before. The cry of a crow was the final straw, and Vada, surprised, went tumbling down the hill. When she collapsed at the bottom, she turned toward the mountains and screamed in a raspy voice “Big r’acks ain’t gonta kell Vada! Vada st’ron wolf!”
Being in seclusion for much of her short life was not giving Vada’s vocabulary any boosts, and the wolfdog already spoke in an odd accent. This, combined with her sparse vocabulary made some of her sentences hard to decipher. She spun and headed quickly toward the huge lake she had spied from the top of the ridge, eager for drink.
She arrived at the lake a little while later, the ground beneath her tortured paws becoming softer and more like to ground she was used to. She ran eagerly toward the water, and straight into it’s shallow waters. She bent her head and drunk greedily, she water around her fur becoming dark as mud washed of it. She ran in deeper until her whole body was submerged, mud and vegetation and objects becoming detangled from her fur.
But suddenly, Vada felt afraid. The water was covering her, it was eating her, it was going to kill her! With a scream, she ran toward the bank, in her frantic struggles submerging her whole body a couple of times. But soon, shuddering, she made it to shore, where she collapsed in a shuddering heap.
June 04, 2016, 09:42 AM
The wolf had no quarrel with the state of the land here; it was as he was used to: bare, sparse, and challenging. He had been forged in such hardship, born on sick land, where the ache and burn of hunger was the crack of a whip that spurred him on. It was in famine he had honed his craft that kept him sleek and fed enough. Little did he know how prosperous this area could be, how rich and fertile again it soon would be.
He stole quietly along the foot of the mountains, straddling the line between aimless and purposeful. He slowed as a single, attentive ear swung toward a sudden scream. It was some distance off, and he heard not the garbled words that had comprised the raucous tone. His tail swished idly, and slowly, he turned toward it. By the time another scream split the silence, the source had moved to the shores of a nearby lake.
He found her, sprawled and shaking, a wolf that was not quite a wolf. He knew not of dogs but knew when something was amiss. He could not place it, even as he drew near and siphoned her scent from the air, his predatory gaze resting upon her as his paws stilled several tails from her. He said nothing, and merely waited to see if she would rise, or if she was merely breathing flesh for the first to dare to take it.
He stole quietly along the foot of the mountains, straddling the line between aimless and purposeful. He slowed as a single, attentive ear swung toward a sudden scream. It was some distance off, and he heard not the garbled words that had comprised the raucous tone. His tail swished idly, and slowly, he turned toward it. By the time another scream split the silence, the source had moved to the shores of a nearby lake.
He found her, sprawled and shaking, a wolf that was not quite a wolf. He knew not of dogs but knew when something was amiss. He could not place it, even as he drew near and siphoned her scent from the air, his predatory gaze resting upon her as his paws stilled several tails from her. He said nothing, and merely waited to see if she would rise, or if she was merely breathing flesh for the first to dare to take it.
June 08, 2016, 05:40 PM
The water wasn’t going to get her. Vada was safe. Vada was okay. She slowly opened her eyes, brilliant orange meeting the world again. Her trembling gradually eased, and then she stood after a moment. Lunging to her paws ungainly, she wobbled for a moment before steadying herself. Water still streamed down her now-clean pelt, and she spun to see a dark coloured wolf standing a small distance from her. Instantly, her ears perked, and her orange eyes gleamed. “FRIEND?” she screeched, taking a step toward the wolf. Her last friend was gone, and perhaps this wolf could be the new one she searched for. But maybe she came off a little strong. “Vada’s look’in fer a friend. Tou Vada friend?” she asked, tail wagging as she took another few steps toward the wolf. She remembers the last wild dog she had seen, the one who did not want to be her friend, that had been upsetting. Vada did not like “Upsetting”.
Sorry for short post!
June 12, 2016, 03:37 PM
Her trembling slowed and he thought perhaps her breathing would follow. Saliva had already begun to collect in his mouth, and he swallowed the excess as he looked on and waited. But she did not perish and instead rose, and his ears flicked back to dampen her screech, the smooth contour of his snout buckled in irritation. She spoke strangely, and he narrowed his hard eyes on her.
"I'm not your friend," he intoned, low and cold. "I thought you might be dead. I wanted to eat you," he said with an eerie nonchalance as he rolled his shoulders. He turned away from her then and walked away, at an angle such that he could watch her from the corner of his eye. She was not yet food, and he had no interest in her company.
"I'm not your friend," he intoned, low and cold. "I thought you might be dead. I wanted to eat you," he said with an eerie nonchalance as he rolled his shoulders. He turned away from her then and walked away, at an angle such that he could watch her from the corner of his eye. She was not yet food, and he had no interest in her company.
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