Ephraim couldn't think of a single time in his entire life he'd been more conflicted.
This storm was reminiscent of the one that had separated him from his family, but it was even worse than that. A cold dagger of fear had taken up residence in his breast since its onset and he battled with his desire to flee until he could no longer hear the thunder or screeching gale. Had he been any younger, it was likely he would have taken off from Drageda's territory and become lost once more, undoing all his work and becoming natrona without intending too. He was nine months old, however, and old enough to master his fear, but only just. He wanted desperately to run but fought himself with every step not to.
And all the while he was reminding himself that, as Skayona, this storm was his responsibility. He needed to assess the damage done, determine the safest place for the pack to be, and read the weather to predict what would come next. He couldn't do any of those things with fear threatening to strangle him, so instead he skittered through the trees with his tail tucked between his legs, casting furtive glances around and startling whenever the wind rose in pitch. The trees groaned menacingly but held fast to the ground; they were too large and too ancient to be tossed about by the sea's tantrum. Ephraim hoped, anyway. Nevertheless, he crossed out the forest on his list of safe havens and headed for the lake with his hackles standing on end.
The trees had blocked the worst of the rain so that when he emerged from them, he was drenched immediately. It was difficult to see, impossible to smell, and he found the tangled corpses of three bulls quite by accident. They were floating grotesquely in the rapidly rising water, which the slender coywolf stepped back cautiously from. He jumped when thunder snarled again and tossed back his head in a panicky yip-yip of a howl, summoning his stronger and (hopefully) more fearless pack mates who might be able to save the free meal from sinking into the lake.
Meanwhile, a squat black shadow threaded through the forest, grumbling as it tracked the fresh scent toward the water.
This storm was reminiscent of the one that had separated him from his family, but it was even worse than that. A cold dagger of fear had taken up residence in his breast since its onset and he battled with his desire to flee until he could no longer hear the thunder or screeching gale. Had he been any younger, it was likely he would have taken off from Drageda's territory and become lost once more, undoing all his work and becoming natrona without intending too. He was nine months old, however, and old enough to master his fear, but only just. He wanted desperately to run but fought himself with every step not to.
And all the while he was reminding himself that, as Skayona, this storm was his responsibility. He needed to assess the damage done, determine the safest place for the pack to be, and read the weather to predict what would come next. He couldn't do any of those things with fear threatening to strangle him, so instead he skittered through the trees with his tail tucked between his legs, casting furtive glances around and startling whenever the wind rose in pitch. The trees groaned menacingly but held fast to the ground; they were too large and too ancient to be tossed about by the sea's tantrum. Ephraim hoped, anyway. Nevertheless, he crossed out the forest on his list of safe havens and headed for the lake with his hackles standing on end.
The trees had blocked the worst of the rain so that when he emerged from them, he was drenched immediately. It was difficult to see, impossible to smell, and he found the tangled corpses of three bulls quite by accident. They were floating grotesquely in the rapidly rising water, which the slender coywolf stepped back cautiously from. He jumped when thunder snarled again and tossed back his head in a panicky yip-yip of a howl, summoning his stronger and (hopefully) more fearless pack mates who might be able to save the free meal from sinking into the lake.
Meanwhile, a squat black shadow threaded through the forest, grumbling as it tracked the fresh scent toward the water.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
an elephant named eloise - by ThE nArRaToR - January 04, 2019, 02:45 PM
RE: an elephant named eloise - by Ephraim - January 06, 2019, 12:30 PM
RE: an elephant named eloise - by Silkie - January 10, 2019, 12:46 PM
RE: an elephant named eloise - by Ephraim - January 20, 2019, 02:51 PM
RE: an elephant named eloise - by Silkie - January 25, 2019, 06:57 AM
RE: an elephant named eloise - by Ephraim - January 30, 2019, 04:39 PM