He's been wandering for far too long
He feels so blue, haven't you heard
He is the lonesome rider, it's the lonesome rider's call home
- Volbeat, Lonesome Rider
for @Reyes
- Midday, Fog - 53 ° F/12 ° C
The clouds had come down from the sky, wrapping the trees in shimmering, grey fingers, and completely hiding the golden grass of the open Field. The pearly mass was wet, leaving sticky droplets in the fur of those passing through, and gathering in wet layers and small pools in rocks and branches. The fallow pelted pup, intent on keeping up his adventures despite the fallen heavens, had to stop every few steps and shake out his coat, blinking the sticky water from his long lashes, before continuing onward. Moving through the territory was an entirely new experience this way, only the stems of grain right around him visible, disappearing into the grey above his head, as if they grew all the way into the sky. Large ears spun fervently, despite the moisture gathering in the fur at their rims, picking up any noise they could hear through the mist. Sounds travelled slowly through the soup, distorted and ghostly when they finally reached the young boy, appearing to come from all around. But it took more to scare the Griffin. He’d passed the pond a while back, the low bubbling and deep croak of toads marking its location even though he couldn’t see it through the fog. Now he continued out into the Fields, the creek somewhere on his right, though it was too far to hear, and he had no real idea of his direction. He didn’t care either, he was adventuring! At some point, when he got tired and had no idea how to get back home, he might think differently, but for now he was excited by the mystery, reveling in the newness the mist brought to everything. Bugs seemed to have become unusually abundant for example, drawn out by the moisture. Worm’s sticking their tiny, pink heads out of the wet dirt for air, snails inching their way across his path, there a woodlouse, crawling out from under its rock to escape a gathering puddle. Gale paused in his trek, lowering his nose to sniff at the curious grey critter, only for the terrified thing to curl up tight, forming a tiny ball on top of its stone. The pup giggled and snorted at the sight, raising a paw to poke at the bug and see if he could make it roll. But just then, a droplet that had been forming at the tip of his snout loosened, running down the middle of his dark nose, leaving a tickling trail. He raised his head and sneezed loudly, wrinkling and shaking his snout to be rid of the discomfort; Meanwhile, the bug quickly unrolled and scampered for safety. Word Count: 440 "Speech" |