I'll Take One Drowned Rat To Go, Please
05-10-2019, 03:42 PM
Thanks to the torrential rains flooding the west of Boreas, the Rio Grande had swollen to grotesque proportions as floodwaters from the waterlogged upper west flowed downstream. To Tyrian the swirling, muddy waters had looked like wicked fun and he'd found the chance to tempt fate too good to pass up. Yes, the river was dangerous and yes, he knew it wasn't smart to mess with it, but the thrill of doing a bad thing had been irresistible.
He'd paid for his foolishness.
The last thing Tyrian had seen before the muddy water whisked him from the bank was his father's fear filled face as he dove into the water to save him. Even now that expression was burned into Tyrian's brain and flashed across his eyes every time he closed them. He hadn't known his father could feel fear.
The boy now lay draped across a gnarled root that hung over the river. His position was precarious but he was too tired to climb any higher. It had taken every ounce of strength to make it as far as he had and his struggle was easily seen in the many gouges that littered the root from his claws struggling for traction. Had they been regular wolf claws he may not have been able to snag the wood and haul himself out of the water.
Tyrian leaned forward and vomited into the water below. He was struggling to catch his breath but the sound of something moving across the spongy swamp ground filled him with hope so he managed to squeak, "Daddy?" Then a little louder, "Z-z-ahir?"
He'd paid for his foolishness.
The last thing Tyrian had seen before the muddy water whisked him from the bank was his father's fear filled face as he dove into the water to save him. Even now that expression was burned into Tyrian's brain and flashed across his eyes every time he closed them. He hadn't known his father could feel fear.
The boy now lay draped across a gnarled root that hung over the river. His position was precarious but he was too tired to climb any higher. It had taken every ounce of strength to make it as far as he had and his struggle was easily seen in the many gouges that littered the root from his claws struggling for traction. Had they been regular wolf claws he may not have been able to snag the wood and haul himself out of the water.
Tyrian leaned forward and vomited into the water below. He was struggling to catch his breath but the sound of something moving across the spongy swamp ground filled him with hope so he managed to squeak, "Daddy?" Then a little louder, "Z-z-ahir?"
Current time: 11-23-2024, 08:43 AM
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