07-22-2019, 12:00 AM
One single water droplet struck a gray, hunched neck, dispatching a shiver of sadistic proportions down its possessor’s backbone.
Hardly a moment passed, and that single water droplet had evolved into a vicious thunderstorm. If a lone raindrop caused a tremor within the hound, then a whole downpour created an earthquake - leaving Leroy quite shaken to the frail bone. His body temperature decreased with every coming second, inadvertently birthing a surge of intermittent convulsions, and eagerly pushing the notion of finding shelter through his mind. If equipped with a failing body, such as the guardsman’s, one must preserve it as much as possible if they wished to prolong their existence. Merely idling outside in all this rain served as a hazard to his wellbeing, thus getting out of it proved as the best course of action.
The rain angrily battered his facial features, chiefly his eyes, partially blinding the partially blind mongrel. Leroy yearned to put the pedal to the metal and get the hell out of the precipitation, yet with such a fuzzy sense of vision at hand, to break into a sprint was simply self slaughter at this point. Harming oneself while hot on the trail to sanctuary was entirely counterproductive, so he’d continue to helplessly amble about neath the thundering clouds above.
Each pawstep led the canine through another lukewarm puddle, his leg subtly twitching whenever his pads gripped the clammy muck of earth. As one foot fell totally numb, a sharp exhale would mark the occasion. Being the only discernible object in view, his eyesight fixated itself solely on the ground ahead.
A voice, clad in the tone of distress. One foreign to his folded ears. Caught in the deluge, no less, the same as he.
"Whatever’s botherin’ him, ya better back off!" Leroy called, changing his course to match the particular voice’s whereabouts.
There was no possible way for him to ward off whatever ailed the stranger, so he hoped that shouting was enough to point him in the wolfhound’s direction.
Hardly a moment passed, and that single water droplet had evolved into a vicious thunderstorm. If a lone raindrop caused a tremor within the hound, then a whole downpour created an earthquake - leaving Leroy quite shaken to the frail bone. His body temperature decreased with every coming second, inadvertently birthing a surge of intermittent convulsions, and eagerly pushing the notion of finding shelter through his mind. If equipped with a failing body, such as the guardsman’s, one must preserve it as much as possible if they wished to prolong their existence. Merely idling outside in all this rain served as a hazard to his wellbeing, thus getting out of it proved as the best course of action.
The rain angrily battered his facial features, chiefly his eyes, partially blinding the partially blind mongrel. Leroy yearned to put the pedal to the metal and get the hell out of the precipitation, yet with such a fuzzy sense of vision at hand, to break into a sprint was simply self slaughter at this point. Harming oneself while hot on the trail to sanctuary was entirely counterproductive, so he’d continue to helplessly amble about neath the thundering clouds above.
Each pawstep led the canine through another lukewarm puddle, his leg subtly twitching whenever his pads gripped the clammy muck of earth. As one foot fell totally numb, a sharp exhale would mark the occasion. Being the only discernible object in view, his eyesight fixated itself solely on the ground ahead.
A voice, clad in the tone of distress. One foreign to his folded ears. Caught in the deluge, no less, the same as he.
"Whatever’s botherin’ him, ya better back off!" Leroy called, changing his course to match the particular voice’s whereabouts.
There was no possible way for him to ward off whatever ailed the stranger, so he hoped that shouting was enough to point him in the wolfhound’s direction.