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08-20-2015, 10:58 PM
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Sheba
Confined to the island, you have done a lot of walking these past few weeks—mainly to see if there was any way off, at first, but now that you have thoroughly skirted the perimeter and realized otherwise, you figure that you might as well get acquainted with its nooks, crannies, and hiding places. You never know how long you’ll be stuck in this place. It has come to your attention as well that there is a herd living here, and that by default, you’re kind of a part of it. However, thus far, you have observed the Throat citizens from a calculated distance, only interacting with them in rare instances. You tell yourself that it is for a variety of reasons—namely, that you don’t need to develop ties to these merely circumstancial herdmates—but in your heart of hearts, you know that you cannot stand their pity, nor the feeling that you might owe them anything. Sure, one of them had brought you here (and by brought, you really mean unceremoniously dumped you here in the middle of a sandstorm), but she’d long since wandered off. That would have been the end of it too, had you not been stranded in the middle of this desert. Still, with the sun on your back and plenty of food, it couldn’t be said that the Throat hasn’t treated you well. Hollow ribs are beginning to look a little less so, and your disgusting winter coat has begun to fall out in patches, causing the small, sharp-eyed desert birds to trail behind you in an annoying flock, snatching up the milky hair like trophies for their burrows. The warmer weather has been good to your joints too, and your walk is slightly less stiff—not anywhere near the beautiful fluid trot you prided yourself on in your real body, but at least the only bit of you suffering these days was your wounded vanity. Anyhow, you’re walking along, trying to ditch the birds, when you spot a dark figure not too far off. Normally, you’d just turn around and leave him alone, but he catches your eye with the way he is moving: stopping, then inching along again, then…is he tucking things under rocks? Your eyes narrow, and you begin to drift along off to the side, casually grazing with one eye on him. What could he be up to? OOC: Hope you don't mind Sheba crashing! All she ever wanted was the world
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