Whiskey on ice
fighting seasonal prompt
06-23-2020, 02:49 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-24-2020, 07:43 AM by Askan.)
It was late, Askan really ought to have gone to bed hours ago, but no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut he just couldn't do it, sleep was just out of reach. And so he wandered north till he came upon a frozen lake, shining bright in the moonlight, beckoning him to step onto its frozen surface.
After the incident at the river Askan had sworn he'd never step out onto ice again yet there he was, standing with his legs spread wide, all wobbly and uncertain like a newborn fawn. But at least this time he'd taken a moment to ensure that the ice was thick enough to take his weight, that it wouldn't creak or crack if he stepped on it the wrong way. He looked like an idiot, no doubt, but he was insistent on figuring out the proper way to walk on ice. Raelyn-wherever the hell she was these days- had told him to scoot along on his belly but if he had to cross another river ...well he wasn't going to stoop that low ever again. The way he saw it, all he needed to do was practice a little, to find a method that worked for him.
The life of a loner left him with a lot of time to kill, it was sort of sad that he had to resort to this. Not that he'd ever think of it that way.
With a huff Askan decided that spreading his legs wasn't helping at all. It made his knees hurt and his movements were clunky, stiff, like he'd forgotten how to walk. He straightened up and squared his shoulders, his tail hanging limp between his legs as he stared up at the moon in the night sky. Maybe if he'd been younger and a bit more jolly he could have turned this into a game, it could have been fun. But all he really felt was mounting frustration, as though no matter how hard he tried he'd never be good at anything.What he needed was a purpose, a point, cause otherwise he just felt like he was chasing his tail.
Moving but going nowhere.