Constance had traveled west today, though he didn't have any rhyme or reason for which way he decided to go. As long as it wasn't toward his birthplace, he would be fine. The yearling was uncertain what the future would hold for him, but he knew that he would have to find somewhere to stay before the winter decided to creep up on him. This may have been only his second winter, but he was smart enough to know that he wouldn't be able to survive it on his own. He was fragile, like any creature who lived and breathed, and he wasn't about to let his stubbornness kill him outright. Besides, dying of cold and starvation was just
such a stupid way to go. He'd be much better off getting killed valiantly while protecting some maiden from a bear. (Not that he wanted to get killed by
anything at this point.)
On his way from his current haunt (Red Fern Forest), Constance had snuck through a valley between two mountains. It wasn't the kind of valley that
really dipped down, but it was enough that he managed to make it without ever feeling in too much danger.
And now Constance found himself in some bushy field, not quite sure what to do with himself. Then again, he'd never
really known what to do with himself. He just floated through life somehow managing to keep himself alive along the way. One day, that sort of attitude would catch up with him. For now, though, he was content with himself as he wandered eastward, occasionally sniffing the ground.
(This post was last modified: Sep 25, 2013, 06:52 PM by Constance.)
Images by Allie