Post by grimshaw on Dec 12, 2012 13:49:27 GMT -5
His frame jumped out in great distortion as he looked into a small spiraling pool that was connected to the turbulent river. His image looked gawky and twisted in this slight recess of water, so he quickly took a sip and turned the other way. It had been nearly three days since he first washed ashore and he'd taken no interest in seeking out other company. In fact, he was rather agitated and uncomfortable with this new sense of lost. He had no idea where he was, there was no name he knew for the dirt his paws stood on. This in itself was getting increasingly frustrating, and the fact that he could sniff other wolves on the breeze but they seemed to migrate around him in a large circumference.
"I know I'm no spring daffodil but if people could stop avoiding me, that'd be great!" He barked in anger, snorting as he parted ways with the river and came back to the edge of the ocean again.
Grimshaw didn't want to travel too far from the place he had washed up on, he didn't want to lose sight of this place and get sucked into the land beyond. He wanted to go home, to his little nest on the other side of the ocean...
He let out an exasperated sigh as a lukewarm breeze washed over him, the undertone of the chill made him shudder with distaste. The world was all clouded over and gray, a few rain drops blotted the hard sand of the beach. They landed with thick thuds and soon it was full out, and he just sat there, letting the random heavy down pour wash the salt out of his pelt. His ears were unamusedly hanging down on the sides of his head as he stared bleakly into the crashing waves, which were also gray and starting to blend into the sky. It was all just becoming one big, grey blob in his good eye and finally he had to look away. He looked down to his left where he saw a little crab, his heart jumped and Grim skittered away down the beach a few feet.
"Ew. Just creepy, how could anything walk like that?" He huffed on his breath and gave a little shudder.
The downpour turned back into a patter and then just a drizzle, it grew a cold, damp mist up out of the earth, or perhaps it dropped from the sky, Grimshaw didn't care. He only cared that a chill was coming more and more into the air. He was not inclined to cold weather, sure, half gray wolf had left him a bit more insulated than a pure red wolf would be, but he was still much more suited with lazy warm days. He shivered and glassed his surroundings uncomfortably. He wasn't going to find any nice place to seek shelter if he stayed rooted to this same spot but he couldn't find the strength to leave, to accept the fact that he was going to have to stay planted on this island. He didn't want to live here, he let out a snarl and shook his head, what was this place? Why had he been banished to this earthen hell?
He stood up and paced, tearing his teeth into bramble and twigs. Needing something to let his frustration out on, he wished one of those wolves who avoided him would now slip in just a bit too close-- he chomped a piece of driftwood in half, the salty splinters making him squint and roll his tongue. The taste although awakened an uncomfortable sensation in his belly: Hunger.
