Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.
Lonny sat up, heart aching as it usually did, alone as he had been for some time, his mother nowhere to be found.
His fur was dappled with the snow that was still falling, reaching him even beneath the great coniferous tree he had slept under. The grey-clouded sky obscured the sun, but he thought it must be mid-morning. He shook himself, skin a little loose on hungry bones, panting frosty breaths into the freezing air.
Okay. New day. Time to go.
He liked to take it in steps like this: Sleep. Wake. Eat. Move. It made for a structural backdrop to a life that could often be so confusing or unpredictable. His stomach grumbled, but that was the next step he could reach- hopefully, soon. Skip it for now and Move.
Despite his hunger, Lonny was in good spirits. He tended to be, when he was alone to his thoughts and a beautiful landscape around him. One might say he had an affinity for the little things, and living was one of them. At a small clearing, he snapped at the falling snow, tasting the flakes on his tongue and counting them in his head: one, two, three… And the laughter of his siblings rang in his head, but there was no one to compete with, now.
He trailed back into the forest, patches of it completely untouched by snow. A funny-smelling breeze reached him, and he paused, but it wasn’t something he associated with danger. So he continued. Lots of things had been new to him, these past couple years. He could find lots of new things- a talent, he thought, even if the other wolves had laughed at him.
His large ears twitched at something haunting beneath the wind, and he whined to himself, the internal voice that was not his voice but that of his mother telling him to be brave, be brave keeping his steps in a forward direction. The strange smell was growing and so, too, was his curiosity. The forest sloped upward and thinned, tall grasses busting through the snow ahead of him. His heart thudded as he crested the ridge, legs shaking and lowering his large body to the ground.
The smell and the sound hit him harder than ever, as he looked over an expanse of white, and then- black. Well, black and white, trading places against what he didn’t know was a shore. He looked on in silent wonder for several minutes before he decided to sniff his way closer to the new, unfamiliar landscape.
Water, he discovered. That’s what it was. Moving water, but not like a river. It seemed to want to eat the land up. Some dark and frosted mounds of things dotted the ground like wads of grass and he licked curiously at one, tasting salt and sour. Yuck.
He trailed along the tides curiously, only discovering that the water was not entirely predictable when an ice-cold wave washed across his feet. He yelped, bounding up across the beach, tail tucked, and only stopped when he realized nothing had bit him. He looked back on the water, which seemed to be reaching for him. He returned close again, careful to mind the lapping tongue of the water. Soon, he was making a game of how close he could get to the waves without touching it, and his hunger was forgotten as he dodged the waters on the frozen beach.
Lonny sat up, heart aching as it usually did, alone as he had been for some time, his mother nowhere to be found.
His fur was dappled with the snow that was still falling, reaching him even beneath the great coniferous tree he had slept under. The grey-clouded sky obscured the sun, but he thought it must be mid-morning. He shook himself, skin a little loose on hungry bones, panting frosty breaths into the freezing air.
Okay. New day. Time to go.
He liked to take it in steps like this: Sleep. Wake. Eat. Move. It made for a structural backdrop to a life that could often be so confusing or unpredictable. His stomach grumbled, but that was the next step he could reach- hopefully, soon. Skip it for now and Move.
Despite his hunger, Lonny was in good spirits. He tended to be, when he was alone to his thoughts and a beautiful landscape around him. One might say he had an affinity for the little things, and living was one of them. At a small clearing, he snapped at the falling snow, tasting the flakes on his tongue and counting them in his head: one, two, three… And the laughter of his siblings rang in his head, but there was no one to compete with, now.
He trailed back into the forest, patches of it completely untouched by snow. A funny-smelling breeze reached him, and he paused, but it wasn’t something he associated with danger. So he continued. Lots of things had been new to him, these past couple years. He could find lots of new things- a talent, he thought, even if the other wolves had laughed at him.
His large ears twitched at something haunting beneath the wind, and he whined to himself, the internal voice that was not his voice but that of his mother telling him to be brave, be brave keeping his steps in a forward direction. The strange smell was growing and so, too, was his curiosity. The forest sloped upward and thinned, tall grasses busting through the snow ahead of him. His heart thudded as he crested the ridge, legs shaking and lowering his large body to the ground.
The smell and the sound hit him harder than ever, as he looked over an expanse of white, and then- black. Well, black and white, trading places against what he didn’t know was a shore. He looked on in silent wonder for several minutes before he decided to sniff his way closer to the new, unfamiliar landscape.
Water, he discovered. That’s what it was. Moving water, but not like a river. It seemed to want to eat the land up. Some dark and frosted mounds of things dotted the ground like wads of grass and he licked curiously at one, tasting salt and sour. Yuck.
He trailed along the tides curiously, only discovering that the water was not entirely predictable when an ice-cold wave washed across his feet. He yelped, bounding up across the beach, tail tucked, and only stopped when he realized nothing had bit him. He looked back on the water, which seemed to be reaching for him. He returned close again, careful to mind the lapping tongue of the water. Soon, he was making a game of how close he could get to the waves without touching it, and his hunger was forgotten as he dodged the waters on the frozen beach.
December 18, 2021, 10:20 AM
(This post was last modified: December 18, 2021, 10:26 AM by Dashiell.)
The tide was coming in, and so the seafarer was going about his daily task of digging traps for the catch of the day.
He finished his second long trench, and he sat back to admire his handiwork. Movement caught in the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he watched the other wolf play in the distance, his own task momentarily forgotten.
Dash's tongue lolled from his mouth as he panted (still a little out of breath from all the digging) and he wagged his tail good-naturedly. It warmed his heart to see someone out enjoying the sea on such a brisk morning.
Dash's trenches were in the path of the stranger's general trajectory, and so Dash did not bother to call out for their attention. His calls would likely have been lost to the sea winds anyway. Dash would wait for the stranger to come nearer, and then he would address them if they seemed friendly. He went back to digging what would become the third and final trench.
He finished his second long trench, and he sat back to admire his handiwork. Movement caught in the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he watched the other wolf play in the distance, his own task momentarily forgotten.
Dash's tongue lolled from his mouth as he panted (still a little out of breath from all the digging) and he wagged his tail good-naturedly. It warmed his heart to see someone out enjoying the sea on such a brisk morning.
Dash's trenches were in the path of the stranger's general trajectory, and so Dash did not bother to call out for their attention. His calls would likely have been lost to the sea winds anyway. Dash would wait for the stranger to come nearer, and then he would address them if they seemed friendly. He went back to digging what would become the third and final trench.
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