10-28-2018, 10:30 AM
Teal
She could smell him, a beast of blood and water. She held so still, melded herself into her surroundings as best she could. She had no way of seeing how her rich gold stood out against the dark cavern walls, or how her breath was not as quiet as she would have wished it.
She would never know stealth.
He smelled terrible. Not like the sweet stone and water and darkness she craved, because of her Caveman, wherever he may be. This one smelled of rot and sickness and festering violence. This one was a monster and he had her neatly caged in with him. She couldn't possibly know that silence was not universal, that she made such noise as she dragged her feet under her and pressed against a side wall.
Her nostrils flared, nose bobbing in the air to test the scents, keep watch of him in the only way she knew how. Without touching him, anyway. That was her preferred way, more solid, surer. But she wouldn't be touching this one if she could help it. She probably wouldn't live.
She was grunting softly in her anxiety, relying on the subtle vibrations in her throat to soothe her nerves, and she leaned back and wedged herself further in a back corner. Her cheek pushed against the cave wall, feeling her breath heat the air around her nose as it held to the stone, but it dulled her sense of smell and she lifted off it again.
She tested the air again, got his direction, then swayed on her front feet, uncertain which way she would go. She shouldn't stay, she should run. But not run. Running was dangerous and painful. So many things that fly out and hit her so suddenly, trip her and break her. She would stay against the wall and move towards the entrance, but he was there, and so she swayed along the back wall instead.
Her heart was racing, and those murmured little grunts were not soothing her quite as easily as they may have before. She might die here today, after all that she had survived in her life. The world was so cruel. All she knew was survival. So she pressed on, sinking deeper into the cave, deeper into danger.
She would never know stealth.
He smelled terrible. Not like the sweet stone and water and darkness she craved, because of her Caveman, wherever he may be. This one smelled of rot and sickness and festering violence. This one was a monster and he had her neatly caged in with him. She couldn't possibly know that silence was not universal, that she made such noise as she dragged her feet under her and pressed against a side wall.
Her nostrils flared, nose bobbing in the air to test the scents, keep watch of him in the only way she knew how. Without touching him, anyway. That was her preferred way, more solid, surer. But she wouldn't be touching this one if she could help it. She probably wouldn't live.
She was grunting softly in her anxiety, relying on the subtle vibrations in her throat to soothe her nerves, and she leaned back and wedged herself further in a back corner. Her cheek pushed against the cave wall, feeling her breath heat the air around her nose as it held to the stone, but it dulled her sense of smell and she lifted off it again.
She tested the air again, got his direction, then swayed on her front feet, uncertain which way she would go. She shouldn't stay, she should run. But not run. Running was dangerous and painful. So many things that fly out and hit her so suddenly, trip her and break her. She would stay against the wall and move towards the entrance, but he was there, and so she swayed along the back wall instead.
Her heart was racing, and those murmured little grunts were not soothing her quite as easily as they may have before. She might die here today, after all that she had survived in her life. The world was so cruel. All she knew was survival. So she pressed on, sinking deeper into the cave, deeper into danger.