It had been much longer than one week since Indru had left. Torla couldn't wait any longer. She was absolutely certain that the water had come back to Relic Lore, or Indru would have returned to warn them against leaving their safe haven. Gradually her siblings trickled out of their asylum to follow Indru — it was her turn now.
Her short journey was pleasant, the winter sun warming her back and alighting the snow a brilliant sparkling gold. But she was hungrier than she ever remembered, and before long her breathing came in shallow gasps as exhaustion nearly overpowered her. She was used to pack life, which almost always promised food, and lack of such reliability had pulled her skin taught against her bones and drained her energy quicker than she ever really expected. By the time the shadows of Sacred Grove had turned the golden snow gray, the pale woman wanted nothing more than sleep.
Her heartbeat quickened as the scents of her siblings grew stronger, and she slowed her pace to a stop as she reached the borders of Swift River. She had been worried sick about the ones who had arrived already, and she couldn't wait to see them all safe and sound. With her tail tip flicking back and forth with expectancy, Torla slanted her muzzle toward the sky and beckoned to her brothers and sisters.
(This post was last modified: Feb 05, 2011, 03:05 AM by Torla.)