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+---- Thread: gone like the pliocene / joining (/showthread.php?tid=8364)
gone like the pliocene / joining - emil - 12-04-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]It's been a few days since the storm. Few days since he last saw Nyasha. The anxiety had set in the moment he slipped down the muddy slope, and it's only gotten worse with each moment spent without their dear friend. Still, he knows there's no use in him running around looking for them like a lost puppy, even if that's what he is. He needs to find shelter and food. Then he can look for them.
The scrawny black wolf finds himself at the shoreline, white eyes staring at an island a few miles away. His stomach sinks further the longer he stares; why, he can't know for sure, but the feeling is present and unavoidable. He hasn't decided even as his legs start moving, setting over the railroad tracks. The tide pulls lightly at him as he begins to wade forward. Some of the dried mud washes off with the waves, but for the most part, Abel is still a dirty, muddy mess of a dog. A bath isn't exactly his first priority here, but the idea of just going for a quick swim tugs at his mind, though he continues forth and pushes the thought away. It can wait.
He reaches the island considerably quick albeit the anxiety that now shakes his whole body. The place is beautiful, but the smells of other animals is so prominent and overwhelming he can't help but tremble. A deep sigh breathes past his lips and he sits in the sand, leans slightly up against the gate. The bell before him is tempting, but the noise of it he wouldn't enjoy, and he's sure the people living here are tired of it as well. Abel swallows thickly. "...Nya?" He calls for his friend first with a shaking voice. The young canine clears his throat. "A-... anybody?"
Re: gone like the pliocene / joining - bubblegum - 12-05-2018