Evening, 6pm.
He needed to get away from the borders, he needed to map out more than just the Secret Falls. His paws had followed the border, one he was now sure was well established, and only the border for far too long. A change of scenery might do him good. So, the Baranski had set off without a word. Darkwater Rapids would be fine without him for a day or two, wouldn’t they? Perhaps he should feel a little guilty … should he had said something to Ava before his departure? Truthfully, he hadn’t strayed too far from home at all so perhaps his worries were needless. The red hills he was now kicking a dusty road through stretched for quite some way, it seemed. Huffing as he lifted himself onto a nearby flat rock, Maksim allowed his eyes to drift across the scenery. Directly in front of him lay a forest of fire—Red Fern Forest—, as if embers were trapped within its leaves. Further south was a thick woodland—Spectral Woods. North was his home, the thick woodland that hid the Secret Falls. And then he looked up to the great mountain that cut the land in half. The pack had migrated here from the other side and the guardian never doubted its strength the entire walk. Nature was a weird and wonderful thing sometimes. Speaking of weird, a movement of white caught the large brute’s eye and, curiously, he focused his gaze upon it. What the hell? A stag, alone and of an intimidating size, strode down where forest met rocks. That was not the odd part, however. A coat of pure white adorned the beast and a fine set of antlers, too. The Baranski had never seen a white deer so it perplexed him immensely. Like a ghost, it moved silently through the thin treeline. Maksim squinted and tilted his head, wondering if he was seeing things. Ghosts weren’t real, right? He’d had this conversation with Ava not too long ago. The soft breeze carried the scent like a ribbon on a stick, erasing all thoughts that it was something paranormal. Ha! He snorted; how stupid of him to think, even for a brief second, it was a ghost. Still, it was so strange. With his green gaze still locked on the herbivore, something else stood out to the male. Something was on its head, something colourful and smaller than the antlers. The more the guardian looked, the more questions popped up in his head until, finally, his dark lips parted and he voiced his confusion with a single word: “What?” There was a bemused look in his awestruck gaze. What indeed. MAKSIM BARANSKI “the only thing we’re allowed to do is believe we won’t regret the choices we make” |
we are shining in the rising sun, as we are floating in the blue