ROAR, Fear the beast
04-16-2014, 10:23 PM
The morning sun would find the brute in sleep, with the due of the night hanging upon his coat in silver shines like crystals. Littering both the creature and the grass surrounding and proving the chill of the night. With the approach of day the air would become that faint touch warmer and the sparkling due would heat against his pelt. The night however had been too long and even with the force of the day against his closed eyelids he could not find his way back to the present. The wind was still and without the burden of scents, and this perhaps was why the little movements of the squirrel where curious instead of frightened. It would approach with a reckless caution that some might label as insanity as it approached the backside of the wolf. From here it would reach out a paw and gently swipe it through the coat of the beast. It would freeze, hardly daring to breath and waiting, but nothing, the beast slept on. It seemed to gain in courage with this silence and stillness, its abundance of recklessness far from over. It would run two hands through the base of his coat right by his rump, and when once again no reaction came it would finally full with confidence and its little body would hop upon its rump. Here it would disturb the fur, pushing it out to create a nest within its warmth. It would settle within its creation and for a moment would still. But even this, it seemed, was not enough for this insane and crazy creature. It would flop on its belly with the fur and run its paws through the plush velvet of the coat, making no noise but more than enough movement to disturb the dead, and still? the beast slept on. "My sounds""My Soul" |
