Blimey, time flies when ya having fun ay Tilda? The weather’s been swell lately, mild nights and dry days just the way ya like it - the heat’s hanging around like a fart in a bottle already. Brings a little bit’v home into this adventure of ours, don’t ya reckon?
He’d been on the road for a long time, months, nay years - so many seasons actually that memory of them had long become but a dim smear buried beneath more present thoughts, and hidden consequently, in the deep recess of his mind. Despite the travel fatigue set heavily through his core, the queer creature was in good spirits and the brightness of his mood resonated through each long, bounding motion made down the worn mountain trail he’d been following. Dust gathered into swirling clouds in his wake, excited by the strange, swift thud of macropod feet each moving in perfect symmetry with padded paws - skill and speed beyond all reason.
But Banjo moved with no regard for differences, his own, the peculiar contrast in features that had forever set him apart from the rest (whichever crowd he happened to fall between). The three-beat drum of his descent was unfaltering and brazen - pausing at length as he crossed logs aloft, soaring like a bird, but quite without appendages to match. Eyes too, leafy-green, sailed boldly forward, searching the oncoming fence of trees for a crack which might receive his arrival; quickly he secured it, and in no time found a world of wandering shadows and scent so pungent, so awfully overwhelming that he felt the stew of bile in his throat.
Look here! Another forest, but this one feels kinda different ay - there’s a tang in the air, like every man and his bloody dog have been through in the last day. There’s buggers ‘round here who stink, I tell ya, the place is on the nose. Either that or I’ve been roaming ‘round like a lost sheep for far too long and forgotten what civilisation actually tastes like. Hahaha, that’s probably it ay, been out past the black stump for donkey’s years it feels like.
Had it truly been that long since he’d kept the company of others?
Undoubtedly this place was a popular one and their lingering affect hit Banjo square between the eyes, like an impenetrable wall that forced his artful progression to cease - and this he did abruptly, drilling claws both front and back crudely down through the carpet of filth below. Too much of his life had been wasted wandering around and around, bleeding thoughts of regret. No matter how heavy the reek which bailed him, their existence promised potential - or at the very least new mates to kick back with. The curious creature glanced then around him, surveying the forest which in all honesty looked no different from those navigated often in recent months.
Things here are nothing like the bush - even the twitters sound different.
Listen Tilda…
Reckon its too quiet, to. Let’s dig up some of the locals n see what this joint’s all about, yeah? Bet I stand out like dog’s balls here all by m’self…
“COOEE!”
Dress | cork hat on head, bandana wound top of neck
Notes | edited because style
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