Post by Silverhart on Apr 5, 2012 9:55:41 GMT -6
The shadows were long and the light was fading, as Half-Moon trotted into the Young Forest. The oncoming twilight cast the world in burnished gold and orange. Ghosts and phantoms stalked the world at this time of twilight, this time when the earth sat suspended between day and night. And if anyone knew the fragile balance between light and dark it was Half-Moon.
The black shadow that was Half-Moon jaunted down the game trail. As the wolf passed beneath the tree-shadows, his black coat faded from sight, all except his white face, which stood out in high relief. And then he would saunter into the dappled sunlight, and his form would be fully visible, a wiry, shaggy little thing, with too-big paws, and a happily swinging tail.
And he was singing. Or rather humming, a happy little traveling song. The birds looked down on him in annoyance at this intrusion, but Half-Moon ignored them. He hopped and bounced about, chasing after mice and leaves.
He took a mighty leap at a flash of movement, and found himself in the dirt. There was a squeak as the mouse scurried out from under his nose. Half-Moon sat up, and shook his stinging nose.
There was a flapping noise, and Half-Moon looked up, to see a dove fly overhead. He followed it's course with his nose, craning his neck back, back, until he overbalanced and fell flat on his back. "Oof!"
From his back, in the leaf litter, the piebald wolf watched the dove land on a half fallen tree. His stomach growled. A dove wasn't much to eat, but it was something at least. He flipped onto his stomach, and eyed his prey. The log the bird was perched on had fallen and landed askew on another tree. So the log was suspended above the ground at an angle. It didn't seem too far up, a wolf could easily jump it. He shuffled forward on his stomach, closer, closer... Half-Moon gathered himself and wiggled his tail in preparation for the leap. The bird looked at him, and he froze. He held his breath, until the dove looked away. Then he rocked back on his haunches and sprang forward!
He soared over the log - or halfway over the log. His teeth snapped on air, as the dove fluttered away out of grasp. Half-Moon landed on his stomach with a thud. He looked down, and saw his paws dangling a foot or so above the ground. He kicked his back legs, and couldn't feel the ground. He wriggled and squirmed, but he was stuck. Stuck in a tree. "Are you happy now, stomach?" he asked his belly. "Do you see these messes you get me into? Well, I hope you have a way out if this, because I'm stuck for ideas at the moment." His stomach didn't answer. "So now you're quiet," Half-Moon huffed.
He let all four legs go limp and hung there for a while. Well, it could be worse. It was sort of interesting to be stuck in a tree. He felt a little like a bird, a bird stuck in a tree. He hoped he wasn't going to starve up here. "Help?" he asked the forest, half-heartedly.
Somewhere the gods were laughing at him.
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The black shadow that was Half-Moon jaunted down the game trail. As the wolf passed beneath the tree-shadows, his black coat faded from sight, all except his white face, which stood out in high relief. And then he would saunter into the dappled sunlight, and his form would be fully visible, a wiry, shaggy little thing, with too-big paws, and a happily swinging tail.
And he was singing. Or rather humming, a happy little traveling song. The birds looked down on him in annoyance at this intrusion, but Half-Moon ignored them. He hopped and bounced about, chasing after mice and leaves.
He took a mighty leap at a flash of movement, and found himself in the dirt. There was a squeak as the mouse scurried out from under his nose. Half-Moon sat up, and shook his stinging nose.
There was a flapping noise, and Half-Moon looked up, to see a dove fly overhead. He followed it's course with his nose, craning his neck back, back, until he overbalanced and fell flat on his back. "Oof!"
From his back, in the leaf litter, the piebald wolf watched the dove land on a half fallen tree. His stomach growled. A dove wasn't much to eat, but it was something at least. He flipped onto his stomach, and eyed his prey. The log the bird was perched on had fallen and landed askew on another tree. So the log was suspended above the ground at an angle. It didn't seem too far up, a wolf could easily jump it. He shuffled forward on his stomach, closer, closer... Half-Moon gathered himself and wiggled his tail in preparation for the leap. The bird looked at him, and he froze. He held his breath, until the dove looked away. Then he rocked back on his haunches and sprang forward!
He soared over the log - or halfway over the log. His teeth snapped on air, as the dove fluttered away out of grasp. Half-Moon landed on his stomach with a thud. He looked down, and saw his paws dangling a foot or so above the ground. He kicked his back legs, and couldn't feel the ground. He wriggled and squirmed, but he was stuck. Stuck in a tree. "Are you happy now, stomach?" he asked his belly. "Do you see these messes you get me into? Well, I hope you have a way out if this, because I'm stuck for ideas at the moment." His stomach didn't answer. "So now you're quiet," Half-Moon huffed.
He let all four legs go limp and hung there for a while. Well, it could be worse. It was sort of interesting to be stuck in a tree. He felt a little like a bird, a bird stuck in a tree. He hoped he wasn't going to starve up here. "Help?" he asked the forest, half-heartedly.
Somewhere the gods were laughing at him.
words; 546
notes; Ha ha! Okay, now we have to figure out how to get Half-Moon down.
notes; Ha ha! Okay, now we have to figure out how to get Half-Moon down.
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