@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.
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Messages In This Thread
[Witty Title] - by Vada - June 04, 2016, 08:59 AM
RE: [Witty Title] - by Skoll Wolf - June 04, 2016, 09:42 AM
RE: [Witty Title] - by Vada - June 08, 2016, 05:40 PM
RE: [Witty Title] - by Skoll Wolf - June 12, 2016, 03:37 PM