Since joining the beach, it was all that could have been imagined. Paws trampled on the ground, knowing he would hopefully make the plunge into reaching the beach again by sundown.
Hunting was his favorite past time, but he hadn’t quite adjusted to the beach way of life. Something about wanting to leave the salt-touched creatures out in their own habitat. Going into the water just wasn’t even a consideration, at this point, because he’d probably pee himself from the cold. Out of sheer reaction. Not fear.
His body shook briskly, wishing he could have been able to find something tasty. There was nothing immediate in his nose, which was a problem. Clearly the bard was missing out on some key feature - perhaps it was how things were so dark. His body twitching, he snorted with the thickening smell of musk.
Old leaves. So many dead things. But no actual dead things.
Jan 14, 2017 05:26 PM
[ ignore ]