Something told him to come here, though what that ‘something’ was he couldn’t say. Whether it was an urge carried on the breeze or just an idea that walked through his dreams, he couldn’t be too sure; but either way he was here and ready to start something new. He’d spent the past years of his life trying to invent himself, complicating the simple things or revising parts of his life that need no editing. Now, Poet was here and he’ll finally have a new chance to make something of himself.
The wolf had a habit of wandering early in the morning before the light cracked across the sky. Rather than staking it out to watch the sunset every now and then, it was the sunrises that did it for him. He admired the pattern of the colors that carried upward with the sun; not that he could make out most of the hues, but rather he enjoyed perusing over the rings that circled the bright star every morning - dimmer rings further away that grew more luminous the closer they came to the center. Each morning it was a different pattern, as if each sun that appeared was different and had its own thumbprint. Poet appreciated the smaller things in life, usually. Or maybe he also just had a problem with over-analyzing certain situations.
The sky was drenched in a medium shade of purple, the clouds appearing like faint light grey streaks against the early dawn atmosphere. Below was contrasted with the lighter color of the dirt and dust, though it was still too dark to fully notice at the moment. Moving across the rusted terrain was Poet, walking casually with no destination in sight.
The timber male had been on the road for a fair amount of time, a couple months perhaps, before happening across this little gem. This little branch off from the main desert seemed pleasant enough and not too unforgiving. The air was chilly, but if he could guess by looking at the sky then he’d estimate that it would begin warming in a couple hours when day enveloped the area.
Dozens more footsteps landed him near a quaint little creek, an unexpected sight that snaked through these parts. Approaching the water it didn’t seem as though it rained much here, but there was enough running through it to take a few drinks. Poet dipped his head down and lapped up some of the water, almost immediately pulling back with a scowl on his face. What the hell was this metallic flavor? He’d never tasted anything like it before, but he figured he’d give it a few minutes and if he was still alive then he’d suck it up and take another drink.
For now, he lowered himself onto his stomach and laid sphynx-like with denim eyes focused on the horizon to watch the sun rise. If he kept track properly, this would be his sixtieth sun rise to witness during his travels. His tail wagged gently behind him; it wouldn’t be long now.
Dec 18, 2014 04:38 PM
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