Sounding the Seventh Trumpet

Dat turned at the voice of a small, whiny bark, and yet again he was dumbstruck. It happened all the time really, he was always being snuck up on, pretty lousy for a runner to be beaten at his own game. ?Hello thar! I?m Datura, but you can call me Dat if ya wanna.? He stated, his head tilting to the side, gradually taking in the russet and gray coat of the female. The pine tree forest, surrounded by the field, it was a setting that he liked to take in as well; it was why he was there in the first place. Different scenarios played out in his mind. Most of them were weird and what some might call crazy, others not so much.


He would not share a detail of his plan before he knew for sure about everything that was happening. It appeared that she looked like Angelique, a girl he had once loved, in a different time and a different place. It had been a long while ago and he wasn?t going to make that mistake ever again. His amber eyes gently crossed around the place, wondering if she was alone, daring not to ask however. He whispered out the name, so he could barely hear it. 'Angelique, Angelique, Angelique.' It had been, a name that he had not heard in a year. When he was a yearling, not before not after, just one year ago. So much had changed.


Dat had realized that he had spoken unearthly too late, and he had already offered a name, not any name, a nickname to the female, something he would normally think about more often. He wasn't sure it it was her icy blue eyes, or the russet and obsidian mix through her body that made him think of the past, all he knew was that he had a past, and he was feeling like he was reliving it. It worried him, his past had not necessarily been a happy one.