Post by smudge on Jul 3, 2012 2:06:16 GMT
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In the dead heat of summer, all that filled the white wolf's vision was ripples of feverish warmth from the earth's surface. The horizon seemed to reach forever long, until all of the colors merged together in a shimmering pastel. Dooley squinted against the glare, a near-permanent scowl stretched across her muzzle. Summer was tolerable, but this type of unheard of, random drought was slowly draining her. Quite literally, as well, since her throat was on fire. That was the only reason for her lonely presence on the tracks, with just the sound of her claws clipping the wood railings to keep the roar of bug noises out of her ears. She would have waited until twilight for the coolness to settle, but her need for water proved to be too strong. Plus, lazing around all day wasn't Dooley's idea of fun- not that she really had any idea of "fun", though. But her active mind needed something to run on before she went mad.
Obtaining hydration seemed to be a good way of achieving this. Oppositely-toned eyes scanned the ground, nose opening up as she checked the air for moisture. There was not a detectable drop, but a little further down she though she could see a stretch of green, likely following the curve of a small creek. If he was truly desperate, perhaps she could search for stagnant puddles in the train stations or boxcars. The bitter taste flooded her taste buds from past memories and she grimaced. No, that would not be an option. She would keep moving until fresh, clean water was located. So the wolf resumed her brisk pace down the center of the track, her head hanging low and tail even with her backbone.
Though occasionally stiff on cold mornings, Dooley still felt like she was three or four, not six and a half. Her strict regimen of exercise and survival had kept the silver canine in peak condition, even after all of these years of running and fighting. The one aspect of her that ailed, however, was her mental state. The nightmares weren't as common anymore, but Dooley still had mornings where she woke up panting with a feverish heat, thinking a human or enemy canine had found her was about to deliver the final blow. Even this morning her past had replayed a cruel trick on her, a tender figment of before. Before the humans died out. It was Jackson.
Sail on, silver girl.
The words still rang clear inside of her head today, many years since she had seen Jackson breathing. It was one of his favorite sayings when he saw Dooley prowling nearby, or about to head off on a hunt. Perhaps he had truly worried for her safety. Dooley knew that deep in those blue eyes he did, so much that he wouldn't dare shed a tear in her presence. It was Dooley's stubborn nature that prevented her from seeing this clearly. This was also one of the few memories she had that still could draw out a twinge from the depths of her heart. A small beam of light to show that maybe, Dooley still had emotions after all. She didn't have the capability to recognize this as sadness, however...only an attachment she had not let go of.
That was the memory that had ran inside of her clouded head that morning. For once, she awoke peacefully, to a robin chirping from a nearby maple. It was so strangely blissful that now Dooley regretted the special moment passing so fast. She had taken yet another thing for granted. Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she had to resist rolling her eyes at her own personal moment. It was ridiculous. These kinds of moments were the exact things she didn't need- the distraction that was an abomination to her survival.
Thankfully, the vegetation had emerged into view. Removing herself from the tracks, Dooley trotted to the tall grasses and found a feeble little stream running through, likely to dry out in a week or so. She had been lucky this time. She sighed and lowered her chin to drink, lavishing in the instant relief it granted her throat. Age-old habit caused her to stop every several seconds and check her surroundings, until she finally couldn't suppress her need for water and lapped at it for a whole five minutes without surveying the area. Gasping for breath, she lowered herself into the brook and allowed the small amount of water to caress her underside as she watched for any other activity. It was unlikely anyone would be out in this heat, although the stream was bound to attract other animals that knew of it's existence.
[/size][/blockquote][/color][/td][/tr][tr][td]Obtaining hydration seemed to be a good way of achieving this. Oppositely-toned eyes scanned the ground, nose opening up as she checked the air for moisture. There was not a detectable drop, but a little further down she though she could see a stretch of green, likely following the curve of a small creek. If he was truly desperate, perhaps she could search for stagnant puddles in the train stations or boxcars. The bitter taste flooded her taste buds from past memories and she grimaced. No, that would not be an option. She would keep moving until fresh, clean water was located. So the wolf resumed her brisk pace down the center of the track, her head hanging low and tail even with her backbone.
Though occasionally stiff on cold mornings, Dooley still felt like she was three or four, not six and a half. Her strict regimen of exercise and survival had kept the silver canine in peak condition, even after all of these years of running and fighting. The one aspect of her that ailed, however, was her mental state. The nightmares weren't as common anymore, but Dooley still had mornings where she woke up panting with a feverish heat, thinking a human or enemy canine had found her was about to deliver the final blow. Even this morning her past had replayed a cruel trick on her, a tender figment of before. Before the humans died out. It was Jackson.
Sail on, silver girl.
The words still rang clear inside of her head today, many years since she had seen Jackson breathing. It was one of his favorite sayings when he saw Dooley prowling nearby, or about to head off on a hunt. Perhaps he had truly worried for her safety. Dooley knew that deep in those blue eyes he did, so much that he wouldn't dare shed a tear in her presence. It was Dooley's stubborn nature that prevented her from seeing this clearly. This was also one of the few memories she had that still could draw out a twinge from the depths of her heart. A small beam of light to show that maybe, Dooley still had emotions after all. She didn't have the capability to recognize this as sadness, however...only an attachment she had not let go of.
That was the memory that had ran inside of her clouded head that morning. For once, she awoke peacefully, to a robin chirping from a nearby maple. It was so strangely blissful that now Dooley regretted the special moment passing so fast. She had taken yet another thing for granted. Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she had to resist rolling her eyes at her own personal moment. It was ridiculous. These kinds of moments were the exact things she didn't need- the distraction that was an abomination to her survival.
Thankfully, the vegetation had emerged into view. Removing herself from the tracks, Dooley trotted to the tall grasses and found a feeble little stream running through, likely to dry out in a week or so. She had been lucky this time. She sighed and lowered her chin to drink, lavishing in the instant relief it granted her throat. Age-old habit caused her to stop every several seconds and check her surroundings, until she finally couldn't suppress her need for water and lapped at it for a whole five minutes without surveying the area. Gasping for breath, she lowered herself into the brook and allowed the small amount of water to caress her underside as she watched for any other activity. It was unlikely anyone would be out in this heat, although the stream was bound to attract other animals that knew of it's existence.
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