oedipus
12-07-2013, 11:48 AM
It snowed so heavily that he could barely see where he was going. Ganelon wandered through it, grey eyes fixed on a point ahead. Resigned to his fate. Starve to death in the snow. All he deserved. His fur had soaked through some time ago and parts of his body that weren't missing were probably frostbitten. He was probably going to lose his other ear. Also some toes or maybe a whole foot. So much for his career.
The soldier stopped, shook his soaked fur, and kept going. Wet snow, this. Temperature wasn't high enough for it to stick and not melt from his body heat. It covered the ground well enough that there was no way to tell where he was, even if the blizzard wasn't right in his face. Better hope it slacked off before he froze to death, he supposed. Or maybe he'd make it to the trees he'd spotted in the distance, right before the storm started. Yeah. Possibility. Unlikely, though. He stumbled over his own feet, regained his balance without thinking about it, and stopped again to catch his breath. Walk along, moving slower and stubmling more often. Either the snow cleared slightly or the hill he came to was unexpectedly large, but it loomed in his vision suddenly. A huge, insurmountable obstacle. He'd have to go around it. Keep going, then. He wasn't really dead yet. Pretty close, though. Ganelon skirted the side of the hill, blinded again by snow, hummed a few notes of a song to himself, and imagined for a minute that he was carrying on a conversation with someone. Not that there was anyone in the world who would want to talk to him.
Did it anyway. Got as far as 'how are the kids?' before he tripped again and found himself staring at the entrance to a cave. Maybe the gods still wanted to keep him around after all. The scarred wolf struggled back to his feet and lurched through the entrance and into the darkness beyond. It was more or less completely black for a second until his eyes got used to it.
The first few things he noticed were some pictures on the walls, which meant nothing to him. Next were bones from a deer maybe, which was a clear sign that other wolves lived here and he'd probably just wandered right into some pack's den. Whatever. Ganelon would take his chances with a local tribe rather than the blizzard outside. He shook water out of his fur, which didn't much help the fact that he was already so stupid numb from cold that he could barely move, limped backwards to put his tail against one of the walls, and waited. Probably wouldn't take long for someone to show up. If it did he would assume he was completely safe.
Better be prepared to fight, though. The soldier lowered his head down near the floor, so a surprise would have to be aimed at his already-scarred shoulders, and concentrated on breathing in hopes that the extra oxygen would warm him up faster.
Noises in the darkness. He was ready.
The soldier stopped, shook his soaked fur, and kept going. Wet snow, this. Temperature wasn't high enough for it to stick and not melt from his body heat. It covered the ground well enough that there was no way to tell where he was, even if the blizzard wasn't right in his face. Better hope it slacked off before he froze to death, he supposed. Or maybe he'd make it to the trees he'd spotted in the distance, right before the storm started. Yeah. Possibility. Unlikely, though. He stumbled over his own feet, regained his balance without thinking about it, and stopped again to catch his breath. Walk along, moving slower and stubmling more often. Either the snow cleared slightly or the hill he came to was unexpectedly large, but it loomed in his vision suddenly. A huge, insurmountable obstacle. He'd have to go around it. Keep going, then. He wasn't really dead yet. Pretty close, though. Ganelon skirted the side of the hill, blinded again by snow, hummed a few notes of a song to himself, and imagined for a minute that he was carrying on a conversation with someone. Not that there was anyone in the world who would want to talk to him.
Did it anyway. Got as far as 'how are the kids?' before he tripped again and found himself staring at the entrance to a cave. Maybe the gods still wanted to keep him around after all. The scarred wolf struggled back to his feet and lurched through the entrance and into the darkness beyond. It was more or less completely black for a second until his eyes got used to it.
The first few things he noticed were some pictures on the walls, which meant nothing to him. Next were bones from a deer maybe, which was a clear sign that other wolves lived here and he'd probably just wandered right into some pack's den. Whatever. Ganelon would take his chances with a local tribe rather than the blizzard outside. He shook water out of his fur, which didn't much help the fact that he was already so stupid numb from cold that he could barely move, limped backwards to put his tail against one of the walls, and waited. Probably wouldn't take long for someone to show up. If it did he would assume he was completely safe.
Better be prepared to fight, though. The soldier lowered his head down near the floor, so a surprise would have to be aimed at his already-scarred shoulders, and concentrated on breathing in hopes that the extra oxygen would warm him up faster.
Noises in the darkness. He was ready.