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Post by achi||ea on Jul 22, 2010 14:33:26 GMT -5
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Woosh.
A breath escapes in a sigh. Pale blue orbs wander through the familiar surroundings, noticing every slight change from the clearly remembered scene. The crisp air tingles the skin and the female’s fur stands on edge as a chilled breeze flows through the moors. The air bring scents- glorious scents- and she closes her eyes to feel the word around her.
A rank moisture is heavy in the air, despite the frozen atmosphere around the lands. It is heavy, and even the lighted lady feels slowed in its atmosphere.
Buzz.
The stagnant waters are full of insects, buzzing around the air and crawling across the ground. Crawling, thousands of legs from thousands of creatures, moving for a cause. Are they really that different from me?
Yes. For everything is different than you.
I am here. I am surrounded by life. Yet I am alone. I am gone.
A bright figure is visible through the fog, a contrast to the darkness of the depths of the ravine. It is a wolf, a female to the lands. A majestic beauty surrounds her, yet sadness grounds this angel to the earth. A sadness that is shown on her face, on her eyes, as black marks show where tears have stained her fur.
Thudump thudump thudump.
Hooves hit the ground hard. A deer runs through the lands realizing the presence of the wolf. She has wondered off the trail, and dangerously so.
Thudump thudump thudump.
A heart beats instinctually. The deer is heard and the wolf’s paws mimic the deer’s hooves, power coursing through each strand of muscle. The terrain is a challenge, but well trained feet know each rock. Leaping over rocks, turning around brush, spraying a constant stream of water behind her, the wolf hunts.
Confused, lost, the deer bleats. She runs, she bounds, she tries to escape her possible death.
Energized, hungry, and running for the love of running the wolf chases. She is just one, not enough to make an ordinary kill, but these lands are full of surprises.
Shuck shhuck shhhuck.
The deer’s feet become more and more encased in mud, its feet sink lower into the group like a suction cup, pulling it in.
The wolf knows the land. She sways her footing, right, left, right- the dance of the hunter.
The deer leaps free of the mud, graceful legs bounding away before the wolf’s jaws snap at the air behind it.
Splash!
The deer falls. The trap the wolf laid has worked, right where she wanted her pray. She leaps through the air. Her paws extended, her muscles tense. She lands on the deer, the deer who bleats for one last prayer of life, and crunches its throat.
Blood.
The red flows freely. Is fills the surrounding waters. It drenches the dying deer’s pelt. It stains the wolf’s silvery white coat. The red is everywhere, filling vision, flooding smell. Other creatures know it- she hears their wings coming, their legs scampering. Scavengers. But the blood is there. Is is so strong. The wolf tastes the sweet nectar and tears a piece of flesh to restore her strength from the kill. Water washes down the light meal, but the sweet, sweet smell remains. This kill is not for her.
Thud.
The wolf sits. Her rump hits the ground as she tilted her head back. Her chest rumbles as a howl escapes her maw and flows through the air. Her message: “I am Achillea, female of Salvatore, and I have food for our deserving mouths.”
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[/size] :: so i can fall asleep tonight ::[/center][/color][/blockquote] [/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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