PAINT THE SKY — return

[deimos]

The smell of burnt flesh tainted the air. The rough smell of burnt flesh vaguely chased in the back of her mind, the burns scarring Goldie's old bodies' back. She grimaced as she tried to follow it, as the winds that danced across the beach of the island slowly chased it away. It wasn't long before she spotted the new figure, who was hudded up and hiding from.. what? The sun? Slowly her large paws traced the sand as she stalked closer, gold and silver eye lowered down to observe him.

In a hushed voice she spoke to him. [color=#A90000]"It would hurt less if you didn't press your claws into your muzzle." She knew in his state he couldn't leash out- or at least she hoped so. Her figure was crouched down, but her muscles were still tensed in defense. She hadn't experienced the cycle of life and death- rebirth had never touched her figure. Standing 8 years old, and strong still.

She hoped she would never have to, either.

SPEECH

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