Post by Jareth on Mar 1, 2019 1:17:58 GMT -6
[attr="class","plbase"]
[attr="class","pltxt"]Just as Jareth had begun to feel as though his travels could not be made any more miserable, Anikira saw fit to prove him utterly incorrect with a blanket of thick, fluffy snow.
He hadn't initially been concerned by the first snowfall; surely his current location was not cold enough to allow any snow to cling for longer than a few hours, at most, before it was washed away with a more seasonally appropriate shower.
And yet cling it did, thickening and freezing in place and driving what little prey there was underground, making his existence an even more tortured one. He could go without food when he so chose, and had chosen so before, but he had not chosen it this time, and certainly would not have chosen this manner of it. Snow was lovely enough, but it had its place and time, and as far as the dethroned Goblin King was concerned, this was neither of those.
His pale coat stuck still unto his bony sides, and perhaps it was because of his newfound weightlessness that the cold seemed so very bitter to him now. Traveling onward to new grounds was simply out of the question until he could regain some measure of his former strength and health.
Though it seemed that would be a rather difficult thing to come by as well, again due to his current wretchedness. He could scarcely carry himself in and out of the little rocky shelter he had found for himself; it seemed unlikely he could chase down any fresh game. The best he could do was seek out scraps of carrion for now - a mean, petty existence for one who once stood to inherit so much, but it would have to do for now.
notes:
tagged: OPEN
word count: 306
Wolf Stock
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He hadn't initially been concerned by the first snowfall; surely his current location was not cold enough to allow any snow to cling for longer than a few hours, at most, before it was washed away with a more seasonally appropriate shower.
And yet cling it did, thickening and freezing in place and driving what little prey there was underground, making his existence an even more tortured one. He could go without food when he so chose, and had chosen so before, but he had not chosen it this time, and certainly would not have chosen this manner of it. Snow was lovely enough, but it had its place and time, and as far as the dethroned Goblin King was concerned, this was neither of those.
His pale coat stuck still unto his bony sides, and perhaps it was because of his newfound weightlessness that the cold seemed so very bitter to him now. Traveling onward to new grounds was simply out of the question until he could regain some measure of his former strength and health.
Though it seemed that would be a rather difficult thing to come by as well, again due to his current wretchedness. He could scarcely carry himself in and out of the little rocky shelter he had found for himself; it seemed unlikely he could chase down any fresh game. The best he could do was seek out scraps of carrion for now - a mean, petty existence for one who once stood to inherit so much, but it would have to do for now.
notes:
tagged: OPEN
word count: 306
Wolf Stock
[newclass=.pltxt]position: relative; z-index: 200; opacity: 0; transition: all 1.1s ease; -webkit-transition: all 1.5s ease; -moz-transition: all 1.1s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.plbase:hover .pltxt]opacity: 0.7;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 8px;[/newclass][newclass=.pltxt::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #88ac0b;[/newclass]
Valkyrie 
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