don't eat the yellow snow
Mort!
05-15-2020, 10:16 PM
The moon shone brightly overhead, casting the earthen-toned girl in a shimmering light as she flopped, not unlike a wet, gasping fish, out of one of the wider streams located in the northernmost part of the forest of willows. The elk blanket laid out there was a warm respite from the stinging cold of the stream. She could feel the pins and needles in her paws, but she wrapped the pelt over herself and kept moving.
The rules for the game were simple. Mortis was "it," and he had to find her. She wasn't technically "found" unless Mortis actually, physically tagged her. And the spot where she had left him, a tree with an elk skull at the base, was "home base." He could guard the area around home, if he wanted. But then, he still wouldn't win unless he tagged her.
If she managed to make it back to the tree, without Mortis tagging her, she won the game. If he tagged her before she reached it, he would win.
This was the first of three games. Best two out of three won the tournament.
Loser had to roll in a fresh cow paddie.
So Mal had given him a count of one hundred before she bolted away, leaving him on the southern-most edge of the woods.
When she played, she played to win. Malalia had submitted herself to an icy bath in the waters to remove her scent, and then waded northwest, heading upstream. She got out on the other side, moved away from the shore, and headed downstream, weaving through the willows for a time before crossing the stream for a second time, and making her way east. A good three or four inches of snow blanketed the ground, making a perfect crunching noise as she loped across the earth, curving east around the border of the wood. She panted lightly, trying to keep her voice down, as she dove inside the upturned roots of a willow where a fox had long ago made its home. She would hide there, and rest awhile, before beginning phase two.
Current time: 11-21-2024, 09:41 PM
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