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12-11-2014, 12:52 AM
Ching...Tink...Cling. Every footstep is heralded by the ringing of bells and the soft crunch/squish of half-thawed snow and earth. Mud squished underhoof, cold and rather disgusting. But i paid it no heed, i've traveled through worse things than the slush that filled this forest. The cold gunk under my feet was a mere inconvenience that was hardly even noticed. Gradually a tinkling filled the air. But this was not the chime of my bells, nay. T'was the sound of water gurgling nearby, merry as can be. But as i near, the sweet gurgle grew to more of a hissing rush, and i pause before what must have been a little creek at some point, but was now a full-fledged...stream. I approach the bank, dipping my feet in the rushing water to try and get some of the mud off of my hooves as i drop my head to drink. Water, cool and crisp and sweet soothes an ache in my throat i did not realize i had, quenching my thirst. But it was cold, and i dared not drink my full fill, not when the nights were still so chilly. It had been morning when i left the...Threshold? I believe that is what Spice had called it. But now it was late evening, the sun hung low in the sky, skimming the horizon. I'd need to find a place to bed down soon enough, but there was still time a plenty to see what this meadow had to offer. For i was indeed in a field, dried thistle plants and other such weeds filling the large space, choking the ground and preventing all but the hardiest of trees from growing. It was one such grouping of trees that i headed towards; they looked to provide cover, and with some touching up, would be a good place to rest. I near the trees and pause, frowning faintly. The ground is torn up near here, hoofprints scattered around the area. I was no tracker, thus could not begin to guess what had happened here, but i thought it best to move on lest whomever this was come back. I sigh gently, the wind sending my bells into a flurry of sound that brought a smile to my face. Ah, the sound of home. I wonder at times if i'd have gone mad without my bells to remind me that i was a being of flesh and blood, not one of the heroes of my stories. I wait for the wind to finish her play, then turn and gaze around the meadow for another place to rest. "This is Kvothe's speech. Blah bleh blah bleh!" ![[Image: untitled_1_by_wyckeddesigns-d89adg8.png]](http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/343/a/1/untitled_1_by_wyckeddesigns-d89adg8.png) Word Count: 439 Tags: @[Satanic Silk] |
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