Skirting the beach [Kesk/open]

[.Mushroom♥Cheshire;]

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[atrb=background,http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb352/diogenessbeast/pbs/purplestormmiddle.png][cs=3] ! Lieryasirg

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Lieryasirg had been skirting this beach for days.

She'd started far inland, because there usually wasn't much of a beach: usually it was cliffs, falling into the stark ocean below. For awhile, she hadn't even realized that there was ever a beach-- perhaps she'd wandered past the place where the cliffs met the sea-floor starkly and started to rise to meet it, or perhaps it had been that way all the time, but only recently had she looked over the edge and seen any glimpse of white.

Something about it made her uneasy. She had little affinity for the water, and as a pup she'd never enjoyed getting wet-- now that she was in strange lands, she distrusted it for more primal reasons then that. Wolves were not fish, and they could not survive indefinitely in the ocean should the riptides grow insistent beneath their paws.

That said, wolves did eat fish, and food was not always forthcoming. Wolves were pack animals, and while Lie might be capable of bringing down a rabbit or some mice on her own, true meals had eluded her more or less since she'd began her journey. There were fish in that ocean-- she could smell them, and sometimes she could see them. At low tide, they weren't too terribly far from the sandy banks, either...

So, when low tide had come around in the evening of this day, she'd decided that fish would be on her nightly menu. Treading down a sloping break to the white strip of sand, she stalked the edges, eyes watching for any hint of silver beneath the waves, close enough to dart towards and catch in her mouth.
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[Keskron]

[bg=762817][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,457,table] Apprehension; though the landscape surrounding him consisted of nothing but a natural harmony - azure sky sparsely tinted with nebulous clouds, a stunning, peach-gold sunset, and a breeze that tasted of honey dew - Krueger found it hard to satisfy the bitter taste of isolation that stung his thoughts. He feared his own, insular spirit like a skeptic does his own shadow. Everywhere he trotted, no matter the environment, the silence tailed him, snapping hungrily at the back of his paws, coaxing him to give in to the nothing. Corresponding with his own aura, the choice of not to acknowledge the mute ambience was the initial factor that lead to his unwanted confinement. Quarantined from the spoken words, from life, even from death; to think that he was so inconspicuous that not even the dark specter of Hades bid him any time, it was shameful. High above the serpentine

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N[/b]othingness, he felt its sting. Bringing this sense of being alone - though he was bashful to admit to it - was really his own fault. Though he had to admit, walking amidst the crashing, cerulean waves at such a late hour proved possible as a time to keep to his own thoughts, to ponder on life as he watched the sands of the beach sparkle under the warm colours of the fiery atmosphere. It wouldn't be long until the sun would be completely blanketed by the horizon, a plethora of stars would thrust their evening glimmer on a charcoal sky, and the crescent moon - the image of God's thumbnail - would come out to father the earth with a soft glow.

I cross below the well-worn lines

O[/b]ff course and liesurely, Krueger’s tawny body pitter-pattered against the polished soil, every now and then stopping to admire the bland, yet explicit view of the shore. If only he could be just as beautiful, just as charming as the wildlife that flourished around him. Why would fate bestow such a hateful cruse of ugliness across his pelt? Patches of sweltered flesh burnt from flames, criss-crossed his frame and stood out like a pack of ebony wolves playing in the snow. Silently howling for his remorse, he continued his stroll through the sands, both marveling and coveting the lush dangers of the sea cliffs.

Entangled in a missing memory

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T[/b][/color]here is no hope, he thought out loud, speaking only to the wind and the earth and the sky. He liked to think that somewhere, perhaps in a heaven reaching far beyond the clouds, a god was listening to him when he spoke to the dirt, to the leaves, to the meadows. But prayer had grown into a fickle hobby as of lately, and Krueger knew that he wasn’t the only one who was inclined to dawdling around the practice. Maybe it was because there was so much trepidation and hardship and hesitation and uneasiness, so many unnerving thoughts that infected the land and its inhabitants; the hardships of the world were throwing stones at the hearts of the ones that had grown to lose faith, and especially at those who still stood strong.

A violent oversight

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Habitually, Krueger wished, hoped, prayed (how ironic), for an individual in which to confide these thoughts in. A brother, a teacher, a lover, even a curious spirit wandering amongst the world between worlds – anything would do, really, as long as he wasn’t talking with his mind, as he always did. Seclusion had defeated him, and he was hungry for the company of others. Yet at the same time, here he was, abandoning any form of civilization in order to wander amongst the remote precipice at such a strange hour. But for some reason, his was still poised as if there may be another creature amidst the dusk.

A formless order will give rise

E[/b]cstatic by this sudden appearance, it struck him.

To something some new world is here to seize

R[/b]ousing from his slow gait, stalking the opaque sands barely peeking over the low tide, Krueger’s mahogany orbs centered on the form of a brilliantly coloured wolf. Her fur was speckled in various tones and tints and hues, sparkling like a distant rainbow. Although her kaleidoscopic pelt was subtle, it still breathed with a great, vibrant luminosity that blinded him with an unquenchable curiosity. He could feel it, the aura around his body making him pant, making his muscles agitate with a strength that brimmed and bubbled under his skin. Gradually, he began to move closer, never ceasing to gaze at the timid wolf inching closer to the shoreline.[/blockquote]

₪ ø ιιι •o.

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WORD COUNT: 744
PLAYLIST: Two Steps From Hell - Nero
MUSE: Awesome!
NOTES: None

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[.Mushroom♥Cheshire;]

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[atrb=background,http://i1201.photobucket.com/albums/bb352/diogenessbeast/pbs/purplestormmiddle.png][cs=3] Hunger was a vicious master. As soon as she'd made that fateful decision to go after fish, it had taken hold in her mind and her belly: a fishhook for the former and a roiling emptiness for the latter. She had forgotten it, in the traveling: that was easy to do. With land rolling away beneath your paws, it was easy to get caught up in it, enter this zen state where your senses only reached outwards, looking for danger on the road, while your inner self quieted. She enjoyed it-- but then there were the breaks, like this, where she hunted. Lie did not like those so much. that was when the hunger would strike, and it was distracting her now. There were fish- she had poised herself in front of a school of them, just out of easy reach. She crouched, waiting. All eyes and all senses were fixed on that school of fish, just beyond her reach. So close, so close.. and inching ever closer. She didn't notice the smell of stranger- not for awhile- hunger was her only master, the only thing she had attention for, hunger and a craving for those fish. And it made her act rashly. One fish slipped closer then any of the others had come, and she darted into the water to her belly, jaws snapping at the waves. They were too quick for her, and her teeth met nothing but salt liquid. Cursing under her breath, she made her sullen way to shore- she'd have to find another school now. She'd have to be more patient. It was when she'd reached the sand that she smelled him: the smell she'd been ignoring in favor of her intense focus on the fish. New person! She raised her head, ears forward, and found his form in minutes- a male canine, burned, it looked like. He was no wolf, and that was the only thing she could tell from his appearance-- the pack of her birth had been entirely wolf, and she knew of other canines only as an abstract fact: she'd never met one. It was hard to resist the urge to say 'what are you', but she managed. Instead, she stood stiffly, raising her head and making it clear with her stance that she wasn't going to back off or concede submission to this stranger. Her eyes were wary, and even a touch nervous, as she looked him over. "I see you there! Who are you, and what do you want?" She called. This was a practiced greeting: though Lie was given to be shy upon first meeting people, she was also realistic. A partially-pink wolf with touches of a rainbow's palette in her fur was not going to successfully blend in with the scenery or make an effective lone escape, and so it was better to stand one's ground and avoid confrontation that way. She wouldn't cause offense-- but she wouldn't slink away with her tail between her legs, either.

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