Post by Phantom on Aug 3, 2015 19:36:24 GMT -5
Let's call me a baptist,
call this a drowning of the past.
Muse: decent
Lyrics: Swim Until You Can't See Land by Frightened Rabbit
Other: Phantom's first thread! Play nice (or don't--whichever's fine)
call this a drowning of the past.
It had been a long, long day.Word count: 710
When the sun had risen over the mountains to the East of him, it had almost felt like a southern summer day: clear skies, warm sun, and just the hint of a breeze to cool him down. Sleep had treated him well, too. There’d been no nightmares to speak of, which were starting to trouble him again for the first time in almost a year. Refreshed by his peaceful slumber, and encouraged by the rare weather, Phantom had set off to satisfy the last thing standing in the way of contenment: his hunger. A day as fine as this was so uncharacteristic, and in retrospect he’d been a fool to think it was going to last.
Naturally smaller than many of the brutes he’d seen wandering the wilds of Anikira, and proficient as he was in hunting, Phantom saw no point in feeding before he truly needed to. Moreover, he enjoyed pushing his body to its limits sometimes. Surviving on as little as possible only served to make him stronger, more resilient, and better prepared for whatever the future might throw at him. It was good to test himself; to test what he was capable in harsher conditions.
Today, however, he’d had enough. Catching a few large stoats to tide him over hardly seemed like an impossible task. The prey on Caurus was plentiful at this time of year, and Phantom felt on top form.
Sadly, it was not to be.
By midday, Phantom had caught one solitary baby stoat. It had been such an easy kill, he almost felt it wasn’t deserved, but the rumble of his stomach felt differently. He’d given it a quick death, more out of his eagerness to eat it than pity, and then set about to find more food. There was more filling game than stoat around, something less lean and stringy would have been ideal. Then, as if some celestial force was attempting to ruin his day, the clouds rolled in. One moment Phantom was relishing the warmth of the sun’s rays on his black and white pelt, and the next the world was plunged into darkness.
Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered the silvery male—he much preferred a colder climate anyway—but he felt differently about torrential rain. Soon, the heaven’s opened and washed away any trace of a trail he could find. Footprints dissipated into mud, smells vanished under the thick stench of wet grasslands, and most of what he was tracking disappeared to find shelter. Once he heard the first rumble of thunder, he wasted in no time in following their lead.
Evening found him lying by the riverside, unable to resist the soothing gurgle of water pouring over rocks and pebbles. His spirit was damp but his coat damper. The rain had abated to a light drizzle and he stared absent-mindedly at the way the droplets fell, slanted, across the surface of the water. There was nothing particularly new or interesting about it, but he didn’t have the energy to do much else for the time being. His black ears twitched minutely at each small sound he heard; the fall of rain on water, the dull snap of twigs, the flap of wings across the river. Even exhausted, Phantom was alert.
A sudden wave of solitude overwhelmed the Loner. He was not designed to be alone and it made more sense, logically, to hunt with others, to work together. Somehow, though, Phantom had still not settled into a pack a year after he left his previous one, which had to mean something. After being alone, pack life seemed so foreign to him. He didn’t know how he would fit in any more, or if he could even get on with others after all this time, or even if he could trust himself around others. So the faint niggle of loneliness in his heart went ignored.
Tired of thinking such sad thoughts, Phantom pushed them away as soon as he realised where the train of thought was leading him. Instead of lamenting, he closed his eyes, allowing his ears to do the observing instead, and focussed on the sloshing of water.
Muse: decent
Lyrics: Swim Until You Can't See Land by Frightened Rabbit
Other: Phantom's first thread! Play nice (or don't--whichever's fine)