Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2013 21:20:03 GMT -5
Thoughts | Actions | Speech
It’s one thing to expect death contained in a dark hole on ship, underfed and stationary, but in the clear sky of the ocean. This fear struck Geist hard, drowning never had crossed his mind as a young pup romping around with only a small stream as his water source. The crystal blue waves launched it’s frothing edges at the lanky wolf’s side. A yelp rushed from the male’s throat, salt water lashed his mouth and cut his air flow. Geist thrashed his limbs following the call of loud, what he thought were, birds. One large tide overcame the wolf pushing his crown below the surface. The rushing water pushed its prisoner far below. Large brown eyes closed as blackness overtook the male’s consciousness. Without the panic stirring his body below, the sea drifted his limp form towards the beach. The brute’s body washed up in the sand with the foam of the ocean.
Geist’s body flew up, his body panting and gasping for the air he thought he lacked. It was only a dream, the same one that plagued the wolf’s sleep for the past couple nights. It wasn’t the fear of the ocean, or the fear of his own mortality, but the pressure he felt as his lungs begged for oxygen. The replay of physical pain, that he would gladly do without. Eyes swept the land around, the sun was still low, and birds had just begun their songs inaudible to the partially deaf wolf. The aroma of salt filled and stung his nostrils, causing him to blow a large breath out his nose to try rid him of the sting. The soft sands of the beach caressed his paws as he pushed them forward in a stretch.
It was just three days since the maned wolf’s arrival to this foreign land. The change was embraced after his last quarters, even if he had yet to meet another of his kind. Thoughts of being alone, the only of his kind, felt like a cruel punishment for a crime he hadn’t committed. Geist laughed to himself as he stood, shaking the sand from his pelt. He dismissed the thought to ease his mind, while subconsciously aware that may well be a reality. Let it go, he whispered, agitated at himself even having the theory. A soft breeze brought a light chill on the beach, that had a comforting warmth from the soft sun rays. The scent of prey in the distance cause his near empty stomach to bellow. Drowning shockingly knocked the thought of food from his head, but Geist remained composed in spite of his rumbling stomach.
Hunting was something the brute knew well, tracking his specialty. No one in the old pack was able to exceed his skills. Geist felt the drive, the push to take in the scent and follow. Peering outward opposite of the waves still splashing the sand, a vast grassland was just in site. A small grey cloud drifted by, light drops fell in the distance just below partially masking scent sources. The challenge was presented and the wolf gladly accepted. Having the freedom to roam, even if he tired quickly from undernourishment, was joyful. Taking in his full surrounding, Geist’s nose hit the floor as he inhaled the fragrances of nature. Fresh air, room to run, and chances to track brought an overflow of memories from his blissful childhood. No, stay focused. He sniffed again, something small. A small bit of muddy-red fur rested on a patch of disturbed dirt, he took note. The wolf was in luck, it hadn’t been too long before an ermine had been just there rolling about. The trail was strong, and easy to follow. Geist’s lips tugged at the corners as a small set of ears peeked over a strip of short grass. One leap and the thin legs pounced as his canines sunk into the stoat’s windpipe. A single blink and the entire attack would’ve been missed. Proud the male dug into his small prize hardly satisfying his hunger, and licked each small bone clean.
It was peaceful to him, now laying in this picturesque field still embraced by the warm sun. He licked the blood from his lips, breathing deeply still enveloped by the freedom and smells he’d been without for so long. A pang of angst struck the wolf’s red chest. He had had a longing for companions since his capture. Was it worse to be alone in suffering or in his new paradise? Geist would rather suffer alone, but now rid of his wooden prison in this Utopia alone was more mentally scarring than the first was physically. Stop over-thinking, and forced his head clear. He took in each moment as it happened, it was the only way he knew to forget thought.
The male laid in the field, making a small resting patch as he rolled the grass over into a bed. His last meal’s carcass laid just a few feet away, he’d hoped maybe it would attract something.. something that wouldn’t kill him. Yet, he took the risk and laid his head down with eyes closed, enjoying the air of new surroundings.
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Word Count; 893