FAITH IS THE BULLET, HOPE IS THE GUN
02-21-2014, 09:32 AM
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MADE FROM THE PIECES OF YOUR GAME Ebony paws struck the ground with minimal noise, though small tendrils snaked their way from under her immense paws as bits of snow fled in fear, creating tiny snowballs that grew in size as they hurried down the mountain below. Blessed be the snow that still managed to coat the ground here, it was magnificent compared to the damned heat of the lands below. The trails crisscrossing the faces of the mountain range provided an opportunity to explore a strange new place for the dame, and she took it. A little ways up the hill a small cave presented itself, and she trotted towards it, lowering her cranium between her shoulders to peer inside the lower entrance curiously. A pair of tiny jaws came snapping out of the darkness, attempting to latch on to her nose but not coming close to her immense height. She chuckled, watching the young coyote snarl angrily and try to bite off her feet. Giving a shake of her muscular limb, she dislodged the youngster and shoved it back into it's den. With a huff of exasperated boredom, she padded away as the yipping of the little beast faded away. As she travelled higher and higher, the beast discovered another cave, higher on the mountain she was currently navigating. Finally would she arrive within the dark confines of the massive cavern, mismatched optics sparkling with intrigue. Strange paintings littered the walls, clearly not created by wolves or any other beasts she knew. Tall, pale silvery audits would give an absent flick as she padded closer, wickedly curved talons clicking on the stone of the floor. She would observe the images curiously, taking in the rough portrayals of flames engulfing cities while groups of two legged creatures huddled far away in burrows. This place still stank of their fear, and it was an interesting new story for the woman. She gave it one last look before padding towards the back of the cavern. Here was a littering of mouldy furs and shiny things, cloaking the skeletons of what must have been the two legged creatures from the earlier paintings. They looked to have died all in their sleep. A peaceful, affectionate picture was painted in the way they were all laid out. Larger skeletons still had limbs wrapped around the frames of small ones, obviously children, and one could find strong bonds forged here. Some of the large ones were huddled against each other affectionately, protecting them from the worst of whatever could have been slowly killing them. Crown would tilt quizzically to one side as she padded towards one form, huddled in a far corner and clutching it's hind legs to it's chest. It had been excluded from the pack, outcast but still allowed to stay with them. It's jaw hung open, empty sockets staring out at the entrance in what might have once been pure horror. Unwilling to soil the tomb with her presence any longer, she left. A new cave seemed to be the next order of business. After all, she could not stay here with that lone skeletal beast's eyes boring into her back. So she trotted off, skidding down the slope in search of something new. Absently did she meander along the trails, lost in thought as she awaited the next thing that would spark her interest. "Speech" |
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