December 12, 2018, 06:09 AM
(This post was last modified: December 12, 2018, 06:11 AM by RIP Firefly.)
The salt flats extend east along the coast as far as he can see. There is something otherworldly about the space he inhabits, the emptiness and the absence of everything. Nothing grows here. The clouds are gathering overhead at a rapid pace, but he cannot see it in the darkness. There is a chill to the air that is descending beyond the normal freezing temperature of the season and it seeps in to every inch of him, mostly through the exposed sections of twisted flesh that has knotted in to place across his body.
The man stops walking. He's standing in the center of the nothingness — and that's when a sound breaks the stillness (a quiet that felt as endless as the flats) which he turns to meet with a scowl. The sound has carried from quite a ways ahead of him; there are odd shapes on the horizon that don't make sense until he slinks closer. There is a swagger to his steps, an obvious limp in his gait which he overcompensates for. The wolf finally pauses when the shape moves, and a triangular head turns to stare at him.
He stops again; the deer stares at him for a long moment and just as he starts to feel that dream-like sensation settle in to place, the cervid dips its head again and starts to graze at the salt flat. No — he's staring a little bit, but realizes grazing isn't the right word. The deer appears to be chewing on the soil, licking at the packed layers of salt as it strides along, hardly bothered by the presence of the wolf.
Firefly stares at the deer as he creeps closer, thinking about the emptiness of his gut and how deeply he would appreciate a fresh meal, but he knows as well as the deer does — he is not a threat. The man can barely keep his path straight let alone hunt the thing, and so he passes by, claws leaving dull knicks in the surface of the earth.
The man stops walking. He's standing in the center of the nothingness — and that's when a sound breaks the stillness (a quiet that felt as endless as the flats) which he turns to meet with a scowl. The sound has carried from quite a ways ahead of him; there are odd shapes on the horizon that don't make sense until he slinks closer. There is a swagger to his steps, an obvious limp in his gait which he overcompensates for. The wolf finally pauses when the shape moves, and a triangular head turns to stare at him.
He stops again; the deer stares at him for a long moment and just as he starts to feel that dream-like sensation settle in to place, the cervid dips its head again and starts to graze at the salt flat. No — he's staring a little bit, but realizes grazing isn't the right word. The deer appears to be chewing on the soil, licking at the packed layers of salt as it strides along, hardly bothered by the presence of the wolf.
Firefly stares at the deer as he creeps closer, thinking about the emptiness of his gut and how deeply he would appreciate a fresh meal, but he knows as well as the deer does — he is not a threat. The man can barely keep his path straight let alone hunt the thing, and so he passes by, claws leaving dull knicks in the surface of the earth.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »