She wandered, if only to seek some sort of familiarity. After months of traveling, being alone just felt right.
Feathered ebony paws, reminiscent of harsh winters and walking over large snow drifts, picked a nimble path down to the Qeya River. Her steps were soft, silent even though she wished to stomp about. It was so quiet within the trees that the lack of noise seemed to press on her eardrums - ringing so loudly she thought she'd go mad.
You're already there.
Aren't you?
The maple forest would turn soon, the leaves morphing into a riot of color to mimic the frequent fires of her homeland. Even she who was accustomed to an ancient winterland of darkness and freezing cold could feel the nip in the air. Amka thought it milder than the cold of the Interior where she'd been born but judged that it would soon be chilly enough for her tastes. Unlike others, winter was the time when she was most active. In the boreal forest it was a time when hunting was far easier - given that predators hibernated and prey animals often froze/starved to death. The girl could hardly wait.
Fog rolled amongst the trees, hanging heavily between the trunks. Amka's ears pricked alertly, golden eyes scanning her gloomy surroundings as hair lifted on her spine - imagining eyes watching her from within the murk.
The ebony wolfess was glad to reach the river, leaving the copse behind in favor of padding beside the water - eyes occasionally drawn to a passing floe of ice.
Feathered ebony paws, reminiscent of harsh winters and walking over large snow drifts, picked a nimble path down to the Qeya River. Her steps were soft, silent even though she wished to stomp about. It was so quiet within the trees that the lack of noise seemed to press on her eardrums - ringing so loudly she thought she'd go mad.
You're already there.
Aren't you?
The maple forest would turn soon, the leaves morphing into a riot of color to mimic the frequent fires of her homeland. Even she who was accustomed to an ancient winterland of darkness and freezing cold could feel the nip in the air. Amka thought it milder than the cold of the Interior where she'd been born but judged that it would soon be chilly enough for her tastes. Unlike others, winter was the time when she was most active. In the boreal forest it was a time when hunting was far easier - given that predators hibernated and prey animals often froze/starved to death. The girl could hardly wait.
Fog rolled amongst the trees, hanging heavily between the trunks. Amka's ears pricked alertly, golden eyes scanning her gloomy surroundings as hair lifted on her spine - imagining eyes watching her from within the murk.
The ebony wolfess was glad to reach the river, leaving the copse behind in favor of padding beside the water - eyes occasionally drawn to a passing floe of ice.
"Are you insane like me, been in pain like me?
Are you deranged like me, strange like me?"
Are you deranged like me, strange like me?"
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
We're all lost souls, aren't we? - by Amka - September 28, 2018, 09:23 AM