Post 57 || Post 63
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Pyrite Town| Late Morning
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Pyrite Town| Late Morning
Phoenix's barking guffaw was a welcome change in her demeanor compared to the past few hours. "Nah. Not when the only hills around are after several miles through open, scorching desert. Most of the critters around here that I haven't already hunted know that there is nowhere else to go that they would make it to without water." Oh. Well, that made sense. At least they would find something, then.
Asche followed her brightly colored tails, past the square toward the trash bridge that was somehow still sturdy. "And occasionally I get a newbie like you that I get to hunt and they get to keep their numbers." He tripped on one of the boards, his eyes widening a fair bit, his mouth agape. "WHAT?!" "Not that I'd ever eat you Blue," she added with a smile, her toothy grin making him relax a bit with a sigh. Of course it was a joke. Stretching herself out, the ninetales peered into the darkness before turning to him. "Ready whenever you are kitty cat." A small frown creased his mouth into a pout, confusion coloring his face.
"I'm not a cat..." Nonetheless, he took the invitation and slinked inside.
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The past few days had been a terrible, sand-colored blur. The birds had taken him, fought him, dropped him, grabbed him until blackness had taken him. Sand had surrounded him upon waking-- an endless ocean of it. The heat drained him quickly, his parched body somehow dragging itself across the heat, he had collapsed in darkness. Disoriented, only the rumbling beneath his exhausted, confused body had woken him in some form of urgency, causing his feet to move. Suddenly, he'd been airborne, then pain struck him again, then the sweet, loving darkness had taken him once more into its merciful embrace. Now, it was all he could do to realize that the hole he'd created in the roof of the building he was now in was not the light all dying people spoke of-- but daylight. Searing, hateful, unforgiving daylight staring him down through its one eye, glaring at his glazed, unresponding body. He had no strength to move from its terrible glare, none even to quench the dryness clawing at his mouth and throat with his own saliva. He was trapped...
Trapped...