Some people would see the darkness in the air and think it was the end times, fleeing the scene before further damages could be rendered. Others would smell the change in the air and be driven to investigate. Raimo was different only in his mentality; he had been roaming the coast for the better part of a week when the flash drew his attention.
Even from the bay, where he had been rolling rocks and plucking at weeds, he had been privy to the rise of a false sun and the screaming of the far-off mountain. After he resumed his hunt for breakfast among the barnacled rocks, the earth trembled and then was quiet. He went on with his day — working his way up the beach and further south until the sand gave way to pasture, then to ice-choked weald, where he would try to rest.
As Raimo had not managed to find food in the past week he was hungry, tired, and focused on fixing his situation. The weald was a maze made worse by the snow but he knew the sight of deer trails when he spotted them; thin lines punctuated by deep divots, criss-crossing any open space. He found one that smelled the freshest and prowled after it; but by the afternoon he had lost the trail where it crested a rocky ledge and had to make another quick decision: turn around and try another route within the woods, or keep going south towards the mountains.
Remembering the strange light he had seen as well as the rumble of the earth (which he, at least by now, thought had been imagined) the wanderer chose to follow the rocky path leading him down from the ledge, in to the rubble of a quarry.
Even from the bay, where he had been rolling rocks and plucking at weeds, he had been privy to the rise of a false sun and the screaming of the far-off mountain. After he resumed his hunt for breakfast among the barnacled rocks, the earth trembled and then was quiet. He went on with his day — working his way up the beach and further south until the sand gave way to pasture, then to ice-choked weald, where he would try to rest.
As Raimo had not managed to find food in the past week he was hungry, tired, and focused on fixing his situation. The weald was a maze made worse by the snow but he knew the sight of deer trails when he spotted them; thin lines punctuated by deep divots, criss-crossing any open space. He found one that smelled the freshest and prowled after it; but by the afternoon he had lost the trail where it crested a rocky ledge and had to make another quick decision: turn around and try another route within the woods, or keep going south towards the mountains.
Remembering the strange light he had seen as well as the rumble of the earth (which he, at least by now, thought had been imagined) the wanderer chose to follow the rocky path leading him down from the ledge, in to the rubble of a quarry.
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Messages In This Thread
Boy's working on empty - by Raimo - February 19, 2021, 12:32 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Sialuk - February 19, 2021, 01:10 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Kukutux - February 19, 2021, 01:36 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Raimo - February 19, 2021, 02:18 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Sialuk - February 19, 2021, 06:15 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Raimo - February 19, 2021, 06:24 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Sialuk - February 19, 2021, 06:38 PM
RE: Boy's working on empty - by Raimo - February 19, 2021, 06:49 PM