01-08-2020, 07:47 PM
risk
Winter has returned once more and he supposes it’s time to begin whatever sort of new life fate has in store for him. Every trace of who he used to be has withered and turned to dust between his fingers. When he sighs, the breath leaves him in a puff of white air – a ghost of his hopes and dreams.
His odd-colored eyes scan the meadow for a while before he finally leaves the shadows of the trees. The snow reaches a quarter of the way up his legs and he rather enjoys how heavy the snowdrifts are this year. The skies have cleared enough that the early morning sun reflects off the copper brindling along his ribs to emphasize the muscling beneath his ink black coat. He’s a handsome thing, but he seems entirely unaware in the way he carries himself. Risk doesn’t hold his head too high or take confident strides, but rather shambles along with those sad eyes.
Still, he tries to smile and enjoy himself. Kensa wouldn’t want him pouting about or wasting time feeling sorry for himself when the entire world was his to explore still. Her memory makes the grin more genuine as he curiously kicks at the snow with one hoof for a while. The different tracks he can make amuse him as he exchanges his hooves for wolf paws, hawk talons, or strange little raccoon feet. It distracts him enough that he forgets his troubles for a while. When he finally does lift his head from his bored antics, he spies a familiar face up ahead.
God, had she seen him fooling around?
He swallows nervously.
He resumes his normal legs in a hurry and trudges through the snowbank toward Sochi. The blue of her face makes her picturesque in the winter weather, he notices briefly before meeting her eyes. Risk offers a soft smile in greeting as he comes to stand before her.
“I hadn’t expected to see you again, Sochi. Taking a break from being revolting?” he asks with a teasing laugh that blooms easily within his lungs. Normally he’s more reserved with his jokes but he has quickly learned that her thick skin makes her a suitable target.
His odd-colored eyes scan the meadow for a while before he finally leaves the shadows of the trees. The snow reaches a quarter of the way up his legs and he rather enjoys how heavy the snowdrifts are this year. The skies have cleared enough that the early morning sun reflects off the copper brindling along his ribs to emphasize the muscling beneath his ink black coat. He’s a handsome thing, but he seems entirely unaware in the way he carries himself. Risk doesn’t hold his head too high or take confident strides, but rather shambles along with those sad eyes.
Still, he tries to smile and enjoy himself. Kensa wouldn’t want him pouting about or wasting time feeling sorry for himself when the entire world was his to explore still. Her memory makes the grin more genuine as he curiously kicks at the snow with one hoof for a while. The different tracks he can make amuse him as he exchanges his hooves for wolf paws, hawk talons, or strange little raccoon feet. It distracts him enough that he forgets his troubles for a while. When he finally does lift his head from his bored antics, he spies a familiar face up ahead.
God, had she seen him fooling around?
He swallows nervously.
He resumes his normal legs in a hurry and trudges through the snowbank toward Sochi. The blue of her face makes her picturesque in the winter weather, he notices briefly before meeting her eyes. Risk offers a soft smile in greeting as he comes to stand before her.
“I hadn’t expected to see you again, Sochi. Taking a break from being revolting?” he asks with a teasing laugh that blooms easily within his lungs. Normally he’s more reserved with his jokes but he has quickly learned that her thick skin makes her a suitable target.