Swiftcurrent Creek The Small Print
ís & steinn ♔ hjarta & sál
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Ooc — Java
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#2
Spring must have been farther away than anyone realized, for when the wind licked at the den mouth that morning, it was chilled. Perhaps it was the absence of the woman that made things seem more frigid. Without her there beside him, Njal felt the lethargic winter as it tried to creep back in to his bones.

Outside, the trees creaked and moaned. They held their own apprehension about the weather, or so it seemed. Dragging their arms against one another in a tired embrace, their branches finger-like as they grappled with their neighbours; some squealing in delight with every subtle shift of the wind. Inside the earth the man lay in wait for Tuwawi's return; but she was gone for a long time. His sense of time was warped by the throbbing in his head - and to make up for it, Njal tried to count things.

He tried to time how often the trees called out, initially. The randomness of the sounds helped to tick the time away, but still, no Tuwawi. Next were the howling winds as they picked up and tried to blow the clouds awry, blowing across the den mouth as if it were some sort of instrument; alas, that was too chilling for the man to keep his focus. When a gust did arrive it would slink in to the den and tug at his skin, numb it, and then escape once more.

Njal shifted every few hours. Then every few minutes, growing antsy and eager for his mate's arrival back home. Eventually he faced his fear of the world outside and staggered out of the den. Slinking through the dirt, squinting at the pale light of the day, and then slumping to his rear. At first there was only light and Njal winced with his head quickly ducking; it had only been a couple of days since the cougar attack (or so he thought, but such an assumption could have been wrong) and his eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. He was determined to find Tuwawi though - and so he stood and began to prowl.

Every sound that Njal had previously been counting, became a small threat. The trees cackled and screeched around him and each new wail made him turn sharply, or pivot his ears. He moved in an irregular pattern away from the den and towards Tuwawi's lingering scent, far slower than his usual pace, as a strange apprehension made him nervous and slow. It was strange, but Njal did not know that anything was wrong with himself; truly, he thought the world around him had gone a little mad. It had all started with that damn cougar.

Messages In This Thread
The Small Print - by Tuwawi RIP - March 18, 2014, 12:51 AM
RE: The Small Print - by RIP Njal - March 18, 2014, 01:22 AM
RE: The Small Print - by Tuwawi RIP - March 19, 2014, 03:12 AM
RE: The Small Print - by RIP Njal - March 20, 2014, 02:43 PM
RE: The Small Print - by Tuwawi RIP - March 23, 2014, 04:53 PM
RE: The Small Print - by RIP Njal - March 27, 2014, 03:52 AM