November 05, 2019, 05:49 PM
(This post was last modified: November 05, 2019, 05:58 PM by Halian.)
Beneath a sky streaked with moody grays, where the fog had just begun to settle across the tops of the trees, there came a silvered streak like a flash of lightning which bolted (no pun intended) across the grassy knoll. As the shape neared the mountainside the creature's pace slowed somewhat. As the elevation increased the run was curtailed - the wolf forced to dig in his heels and fight against gravity as he began the uneven ascent upon a hillside of loose gravel.
He was huffing and puffing; his mouth gaping open and tongue lolling with immense thirst as he tried to cool down while working at the path before him, refusing to slow down even with the burning of his muscles. There was an undercurrent of chilling shadow beneath the tree line which he savored, and in following the darkness as it presented itself, he came upon a narrow passage in the stonework.
This led to a yawning expanse of warm red stone, the perfect place to roost until his pulse regulated itself again. Around him spanned an immense cavern. Despite the gloom outside, and the growing cold of a greedy impatient winter on the rise, there was a glow to the stone where the light struck it - reminding Halian of home. He could not remember the last time he'd been there with his family. A part of him was a little bitter at the memory, and in knowing he had been made to disperse; but that had been weeks ago, and he knew if things got truly difficult he could crawl on back there.
It was unlikely he would stoop so low as to ask his parents for help. He wasn't incapable of survival. Being here in this wilderness while the world went to hell, that took gumption! That took skill! Tenacity! Aside from a few close calls with half-starved rogues like himself, Halian had fared well enough - he was alive, and many others were not.
It was bold of him to choose a place such as this cavern for a resting place. What if the quakes began again? This thought lingered in the back of his mind as he slunk across the smooth earth floor, sniffing at odd patches of dirt or peering down the dark corridors branching away - but he did not go deeper, just in case.
He was huffing and puffing; his mouth gaping open and tongue lolling with immense thirst as he tried to cool down while working at the path before him, refusing to slow down even with the burning of his muscles. There was an undercurrent of chilling shadow beneath the tree line which he savored, and in following the darkness as it presented itself, he came upon a narrow passage in the stonework.
This led to a yawning expanse of warm red stone, the perfect place to roost until his pulse regulated itself again. Around him spanned an immense cavern. Despite the gloom outside, and the growing cold of a greedy impatient winter on the rise, there was a glow to the stone where the light struck it - reminding Halian of home. He could not remember the last time he'd been there with his family. A part of him was a little bitter at the memory, and in knowing he had been made to disperse; but that had been weeks ago, and he knew if things got truly difficult he could crawl on back there.
It was unlikely he would stoop so low as to ask his parents for help. He wasn't incapable of survival. Being here in this wilderness while the world went to hell, that took gumption! That took skill! Tenacity! Aside from a few close calls with half-starved rogues like himself, Halian had fared well enough - he was alive, and many others were not.
It was bold of him to choose a place such as this cavern for a resting place. What if the quakes began again? This thought lingered in the back of his mind as he slunk across the smooth earth floor, sniffing at odd patches of dirt or peering down the dark corridors branching away - but he did not go deeper, just in case.
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