02-17-2019, 05:11 PM
If I never wash the sand from my feet...
He turned from his beautiful future wifey number one, and now that he was looking out over the charming little island, he noticed something that looked relatively out of place. His brows tipped downward and his heart stilled, the ache of memories from a different life settling in a heavy pit in his chest.
Yeah, yeah. He was supposed to be here for some seashells or something. But those structures were definitely man-made, human-made, they had to be. He couldn't stomp out the hope that maybe he'd find them again, maybe they could turn him back and he could find his way back home to Peru.
He glanced over the bare beach, reasoning that there weren't any seashells in sight anyway and he didn't feel like digging under the surface to find the buried ones hidden like small treasures. His heart was set on those abandoned structures, the paint peeling off of old wood. He longed for some connection in this world. He still didn't feel he belonged, still hadn't brought himself to retry building some kind of relationship with his big brother.
Blood dribbled from his shoulder as he walked, making his skin itch but he ignored it, his eyes firmly set on that piece of lost history before him. His cat, he missed his stupid cat. His friends. It hadn't been easy. He'd been through a lot. It wasn't like either of his parents had gone with him, but he'd survived and made a life for himself anyway.
Then one day it was suddenly gone, the gift of his natural family placed before him and given to him almost like its own sort of quest. He sure as hell wasn't going to pass that up, even if he was struggling with a way to make it work, to learn more about them, more about himself and where he comes from.
He swallowed and shook the thoughts from his head, reaching his muzzle out to hover near an old wooden wall and breathe in the stale scents left behind. Like he was. He wasn't going to give up. He'd be with his family. He just wanted to see a little bit of humanity for a moment.
Yeah, yeah. He was supposed to be here for some seashells or something. But those structures were definitely man-made, human-made, they had to be. He couldn't stomp out the hope that maybe he'd find them again, maybe they could turn him back and he could find his way back home to Peru.
He glanced over the bare beach, reasoning that there weren't any seashells in sight anyway and he didn't feel like digging under the surface to find the buried ones hidden like small treasures. His heart was set on those abandoned structures, the paint peeling off of old wood. He longed for some connection in this world. He still didn't feel he belonged, still hadn't brought himself to retry building some kind of relationship with his big brother.
Blood dribbled from his shoulder as he walked, making his skin itch but he ignored it, his eyes firmly set on that piece of lost history before him. His cat, he missed his stupid cat. His friends. It hadn't been easy. He'd been through a lot. It wasn't like either of his parents had gone with him, but he'd survived and made a life for himself anyway.
Then one day it was suddenly gone, the gift of his natural family placed before him and given to him almost like its own sort of quest. He sure as hell wasn't going to pass that up, even if he was struggling with a way to make it work, to learn more about them, more about himself and where he comes from.
He swallowed and shook the thoughts from his head, reaching his muzzle out to hover near an old wooden wall and breathe in the stale scents left behind. Like he was. He wasn't going to give up. He'd be with his family. He just wanted to see a little bit of humanity for a moment.
Lochwood
367
structures to the right