Finding Asylum
08-01-2013, 06:27 AM
Cut me loose
My parachute won't let me fall Don't be afraid of a chance for a miracle
Orica lay on her side, panting out what little air she could suck from the stifling heat. She drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes wondering if that sound she heard was her insides sizzling. This.... had not been a good idea. Out of the hazy, dancing world, came the figure out of a wolf - coming around towards where she could see him. Of course her first thought was that it was Cross. Maybe somehow he had found a stream or a way out and he was going to help her. Against all odds, she pulled up her end, head throbbing with the effort. But it wasn't Cross. Orica was suddenly struck still with the sight of a stranger framed against the sky and sand. Where as Cross's predicament made him strangely open to new wolves, Orica's pain and danger made her scared of them. She made a pitiful little struggle to try to press her back further against the stone. The man was moving his muzzle - he was talking- but at first the words didn't mean anything to her. They came out and reached her ears but the meaning flitted away. She couldn't see straight. She couldn't think straight. It wasn't until after everything had been said that she seemed to register it at all. Cross... Cross had sent help... "Can you walk?" Orica didn't say anything, but she started to rise. Somehow she rolled over onto her belly, and then pushed up wither paws. Her long white legs shook and trembled and finally managed to snap themselves straight. She kept her head low, partly because of the rock, partly because she didn't think she had the strength to raise that too. She took one step towards the male. One step. And then she collasped back in the sand. |
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