Are we out of the woods?
08-15-2016, 01:08 PM
His forest was his cathedral, it's arching branches (short though they may truly be) were his sanctuary. He avoided those he could, preferring a largely solitary lifestyle. So far the season had been pleasant, verdant, warm. It was idyllic, as if he were living in a fairy tale of sorts. Days came and went so quickly that he lost track of time. Had it been a week since the last passer-through, or a month? A season? A lifetime? Regardless, the woman he watched just then was quite the change of pace. Her arrival jarred him out of his thoughts and he watched her, unmoving, from the same place he'd awoken that morning. Maybe if he was quiet she wouldn't notice him. He had to squint his eyes several times before he was able to decide that the dark bit of something draped around her neck was not a terrible mutation but an accessory. He frowned, unable to make sense of it. Her paws were adorned with bits of glimmer that rang and tinkled as she moved, watched as she seemed to play with them in the fertile spring afternoon. Well, he certainly wasn't going to get any more sleep now was he? He could hardly focus either. He might have sighed but he feared that she might hear him. Well, he lay curled amongst the gnarled roots of one of the few oaks that had taken root in the successive grove. It might stick out like a sore thumb, but as long as the wind continued to blow his scent away from her he hoped he would be safe. |
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