Post by dovesplash on Oct 8, 2012 10:09:22 GMT -5
Long shadows retreated eastward as the sun sank lover on the horizon. A low fog formed below the canopy the trees created as the earth cooled slowly. A glance above would reveal dark patches of dusk sky behind a mixture of wood and foliage. A tall slender figure moved quickly in the shadows, taking a strange jagged path through the patches of moonlight on the ground. He jerked his head around rapidly, eyes wide, scanning every direction for any sign of danger. A low hoot of a distant owl sent him down onto all his paws in a wild sprint. He dashed around desperately; his gray pelt weaving around the twisted trunks of trees. How do you get out of here?! he questioned himself anxiously, regretting his choice to go treasure hunting in an unfamiliar, dangerous place.
With a brief regretting huff, he cursed himself, he had come all this way with the hope of collecting the riches of the humans, and had nothing more than his original want, or need to steal something. As he accepted his defeat, he came to a halt at a stump, ready for his punishment. Mocking himself aloud with a dark tone, he gave the voice in his head some form of reality, “Looks like you failed, get ready for some torture.”
He left several set of crisscrossed scratches on the bark of a nearby shrub in an attempt to control the agony he felt. “Oh, Please!” the tom whimpered softly “There isn’t anything here to take!” On reflex, he reached for his hip to pull out his pan flute, remembering in anguish that he had left it back in Gweillan as his paw touched his own fur. With a hopeless wail, he pounded a nearby trunk, a crow objecting loudly as it took wing. “ Don’t leave any feathers or anything!” he moaned unstably.
With a brief regretting huff, he cursed himself, he had come all this way with the hope of collecting the riches of the humans, and had nothing more than his original want, or need to steal something. As he accepted his defeat, he came to a halt at a stump, ready for his punishment. Mocking himself aloud with a dark tone, he gave the voice in his head some form of reality, “Looks like you failed, get ready for some torture.”
He left several set of crisscrossed scratches on the bark of a nearby shrub in an attempt to control the agony he felt. “Oh, Please!” the tom whimpered softly “There isn’t anything here to take!” On reflex, he reached for his hip to pull out his pan flute, remembering in anguish that he had left it back in Gweillan as his paw touched his own fur. With a hopeless wail, he pounded a nearby trunk, a crow objecting loudly as it took wing. “ Don’t leave any feathers or anything!” he moaned unstably.