Post by Barbwire on Aug 20, 2009 20:35:23 GMT -5
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
It was the sound of her beating heart, the sound of her pawsteps... She couldn't get away fast enought. The sound of thunder crashing overhead.
Rain drenched down upon her long-coated back, eyes wide and terror filled. Not even in the war did she show this emotion. Not even... Not even...
Her breaths came out in painful gasps as tears streaked down her muzzle, mixing with the blood that coated her fur, not all hers. She streaked over the hills and plains of grass. So far they had come, so far from home... She let out a small sob as she ran. Though her heart threatened to simply stop beating, simply leave her laying dead in the rain... Like poor Sharpfang, like her poor mentor, like her poor Deputy...
Sharpfang... She breathed weakly. running... running... Dad...She whined, sadness, confusion, pain, threatening to take over her. But she had to... She had to tell Bane...
She cared not if she was being followed, she just needed to get home...
After a long race with herself, of ceaseless running from the Rogue Meadows, Barbwire streaked into camp, drenched wet, blood and tears still coating her fur. She looked quite the terrible sight, standing there, her sides heaving as she looked out through the fog and the rain, searching for someone.
She raised her muzzle to the downpouring sky.
Sharpfang is dead!! She cried out, almost like a lost kit, and with her message delivered, she crumpled into a sad heap, shaking uncontrollably.
It was the sound of her beating heart, the sound of her pawsteps... She couldn't get away fast enought. The sound of thunder crashing overhead.
Rain drenched down upon her long-coated back, eyes wide and terror filled. Not even in the war did she show this emotion. Not even... Not even...
Her breaths came out in painful gasps as tears streaked down her muzzle, mixing with the blood that coated her fur, not all hers. She streaked over the hills and plains of grass. So far they had come, so far from home... She let out a small sob as she ran. Though her heart threatened to simply stop beating, simply leave her laying dead in the rain... Like poor Sharpfang, like her poor mentor, like her poor Deputy...
Sharpfang... She breathed weakly. running... running... Dad...She whined, sadness, confusion, pain, threatening to take over her. But she had to... She had to tell Bane...
She cared not if she was being followed, she just needed to get home...
After a long race with herself, of ceaseless running from the Rogue Meadows, Barbwire streaked into camp, drenched wet, blood and tears still coating her fur. She looked quite the terrible sight, standing there, her sides heaving as she looked out through the fog and the rain, searching for someone.
She raised her muzzle to the downpouring sky.
Sharpfang is dead!! She cried out, almost like a lost kit, and with her message delivered, she crumpled into a sad heap, shaking uncontrollably.