set for tomorrow morning
Sunlight streamed through a thin layer of pale cloud from an expanse of Caribbean blue skies. In the distance, there was another threat of rain that rode along the back of a great grey storm cloud. It was unclear whether or not the winds would carry it toward Diaspora. The night before had provided them with a gentle sprinkle. Any fresh water would do them well during the heat of the summer months – months that were drawing to a close far more rapidly than would be expected. Time seemed to be a fickle thing.
Trench had exhausted himself with minimal effort the day before. He had found a dark corner of the den and curled up to sleep away his weary, aching muscles. When sunlight had streamed through the mouth of the den, his eyes had fluttered open softly to meet it. A gentle breath passed through his nose just seconds before a yawn spread his jaws and revealed a set of dagger-like puppy fangs. A soft squeak sounded from the back of his throat.
It took thirty minutes before Trench had managed to pull himself to the mouth of the den and into the sunlight. When that warmth struck against his dark backside, the young shadow relaxed. No more than five paces from the opening, he found a patch of stone and dirt where he shakily dropped to his belly and began to bask in the heat. The longer he spent time there, the heavier his eyelids became.
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