Another Drab Day
02-01-2014, 03:16 PM
A peal of thunder shook the earth under his paws, briefly making his ears flick back in alarm. As a pup he'd been led to believe that there was a whole 'nother world on top of the clouds. Rain was always either a gift or a sadness; the birth of a new being or the death of one. A rainbow meant that something from the sky world was coming down for a visit and if you could just get to the spot where it touched down, you got something for your efforts. Thunder was perhaps his favorite; the product of a thousand giant beasts stampeding across the sky. Sucre could remember laying with his head sticking out of the den, staring up at the sky and imagining what the beasts looked like. He remembered not being afraid by each guttural sound, but awed by them.
This awe and the general pleasantness he associated with storms put the brute in a ridiculously good mood. He hummed to himself, moving his head with the force of the music whenever he hit a particularly splendid note in his mind. Sucre's eyes would squint with the effort, the voice in his head reaching impressive heights, and then he would relax into softer, more common tones, all the while humming away, pleased with the performance that graced his imagined ears.
The brute trotted on, impervious to the pessimism that came down with the rain to infect the nearby wolves. His coat was soaked; every last hair on his body firmly stuck to his frame except for a patch between his shoulders and a patch between his ears, both of which stood in spikes. Plastered to his belly was a wide variety of foliage; each twig, seed and leaf betraying the places he'd been. There was mud between his toes and splattered upon his legs. None of this damped his mood, for Sucre was firmly set on being happy.
What's this? Sucre stopped and stood still for a moment, his paws sinking into the mud with a soft squelching sound. Before him, not too terribly far way, was a pair of wolves and not knowing a stranger, the brute made up his mind to befriend them. It'd been some time since his last encounter with wolfkind and he was eager to hold a conversation again.
Onward he marched, tail held loosely behind him a relaxed greeting. He came upon them panting, dripping and grinning from ear to ear. "Beautiful day, isn't it!" It was less of a question and more of a statement, for who would disagree with him on the sheer beauty of the storm? Behind him, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, blasting the air with thunder so loud it rattled his insides. Yes, this is a fantastic day!
This awe and the general pleasantness he associated with storms put the brute in a ridiculously good mood. He hummed to himself, moving his head with the force of the music whenever he hit a particularly splendid note in his mind. Sucre's eyes would squint with the effort, the voice in his head reaching impressive heights, and then he would relax into softer, more common tones, all the while humming away, pleased with the performance that graced his imagined ears.
The brute trotted on, impervious to the pessimism that came down with the rain to infect the nearby wolves. His coat was soaked; every last hair on his body firmly stuck to his frame except for a patch between his shoulders and a patch between his ears, both of which stood in spikes. Plastered to his belly was a wide variety of foliage; each twig, seed and leaf betraying the places he'd been. There was mud between his toes and splattered upon his legs. None of this damped his mood, for Sucre was firmly set on being happy.
What's this? Sucre stopped and stood still for a moment, his paws sinking into the mud with a soft squelching sound. Before him, not too terribly far way, was a pair of wolves and not knowing a stranger, the brute made up his mind to befriend them. It'd been some time since his last encounter with wolfkind and he was eager to hold a conversation again.
Onward he marched, tail held loosely behind him a relaxed greeting. He came upon them panting, dripping and grinning from ear to ear. "Beautiful day, isn't it!" It was less of a question and more of a statement, for who would disagree with him on the sheer beauty of the storm? Behind him, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, blasting the air with thunder so loud it rattled his insides. Yes, this is a fantastic day!
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