since the twilight vanguard’s claiming thread is still ongoing, i’m not sure if this should come before (early summer) or after (full summer)—timelines may need to be jiggled. xD just an fyi.
Ross felt okay for the first time in a long time. He’d cemented a life here in the northwestern forest, pledged himself to his friends and a pack, decided that he really didn’t want to let the tragedies of his past define him any longer. And with everything falling into place so nicely, for the first time in a long time, he felt… inspired.
It’d been a long time—since he and his brother had sung together. Maybe, despite how overshadowed he often felt by his older sibling, he missed it. The creativity and camaraderie. He’d been given a second chance in this valley, and he wondered if his talent shouldn’t be given one, too.
But inspiration was a fickle thing, and though it came to him at last on this summer’s afternoon, he quickly realized it wasn’t going to cooperate with him so easily. Ideas just weren’t… flowing like they should be.
Lying on his back, Ross puffed a frustrated sigh. He’d plucked a pine cone from the ground and balanced it between his forepaws presently, holding it at arm’s length to examine all its spines and scales. He wondered if the pine cone was a metaphor for the obstacles he was facing. Maybe he’d need to peel away the outer layers to get to the really good stuff that lay hidden within. Figuratively, of course.
In the meantime, to purge his irritation, he lifted his hind paws and scratched at the pine cone with his claws. It was a temporary cure, but the small act of destruction sure felt nice.
With his stomach covered in tan flecks and old pine needles, he let his head fall back, limp, onto the soft earth. Transferring the pine cone to his hind paws to hold it aloft, he allowed his forelegs, too, to drop to his chest. Prone and seemingly upside-down save for outstretched feet, he closed his eyes and began to hum a soft tune. The muted droning of the ocean waves acted as his metronome, keeping time for his velvety voice.
He was convinced some profound connection existed between the notions of twilight and friendship, and warmed by the sun that filtered down from the canopy, he began to search for it in earnest, solitary.
Maybe it’d be worth singing about someday.
Jan 28, 2018 09:45 PM
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