Staggered breaths fractured the stillness of the dark wood.
Running paws, barreling through underbrush. Collapsed onto the ground at the hips, air fell down her lungs without stop. The fringes of her hickory fur swept towards the earth, while the lush grass seemed to rise and embrace her neck and belly. Moths, in a flurry of anxious wings, disturbed the air from thickets flourishing at the bases of ancient, towering trees. Cloaked in the same blue of night that had painted the leaves, cloaking her, cloaking all.
No matter how hard she tried, she could not tame the beast that was her own breathing, the hitches in each inhale becoming shaky. Frantically searching over her back with a coiling waist, shot open eyes darted across the treeline, poised to vanish into the shadows at the slightest provocation. Near bloodshot.
Bags presented deep and ugly in the fur just under her sun-gold eyes, tarnishing her, sleepless, and diving soon over the next wall of flora. Water ebbed before her in a moonshowered lake beyond the overgrowth, and she scrambled, trembling.
June 06, 2024, 09:11 PM
It had been the first time Paloma had been away from the Boartusk Heights since she had come to call it home, savor when she had been escorting her Mistress through the low-lands below.
She explored the lands beyond with an open mind and search. Would she find new interesting herbs not near home? Would she find prey? A new member to serve as Reyna's flock? Paloma hummed to herself, awaiting anything that came to her path.
This night, it was Karavira. The forest seemed endless. She kept going and going. It was quiet. Those that dwelled within knew a predator was near- two. Yet, the second looked less intimidating then the first. Her breath quickened, shaken. She was a quivering pup in the big bad world. Paloma came slow, her ginger and white coat a beacon of light in the gloom.
She explored the lands beyond with an open mind and search. Would she find new interesting herbs not near home? Would she find prey? A new member to serve as Reyna's flock? Paloma hummed to herself, awaiting anything that came to her path.
This night, it was Karavira. The forest seemed endless. She kept going and going. It was quiet. Those that dwelled within knew a predator was near- two. Yet, the second looked less intimidating then the first. Her breath quickened, shaken. She was a quivering pup in the big bad world. Paloma came slow, her ginger and white coat a beacon of light in the gloom.
What is the matter, pretty girl?
June 17, 2024, 10:59 PM
Lapping at the water, her hackles were bristly and on edge. It was a hassle trying to make them fall, but she tried to now. It was just her. She needed water, and drank from its cold resource. Enough to wind down some of the striking in her chest. A slow creep caught itself up in her ears, and the woman turned to watch through each pass of water.
A beautiful woman in white with a cinnamon jacket.
What is the matter, pretty girl?
Though she expected her to speak, she still did not feel like she had been given enough time to accept it. Ragged breathing, trying to calm. "Hi." Bringing her ears down, her wrist lifted to her chest. "I'm- I'm okay. Do you," her paw fell down, gently. Maybe she could help her? "Do you know where I happen to be?"
A beautiful woman in white with a cinnamon jacket.
What is the matter, pretty girl?
Though she expected her to speak, she still did not feel like she had been given enough time to accept it. Ragged breathing, trying to calm. "Hi." Bringing her ears down, her wrist lifted to her chest. "I'm- I'm okay. Do you," her paw fell down, gently. Maybe she could help her? "Do you know where I happen to be?"
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