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Hiramana [2016-11-07 18:28:28 +0000 UTC]

3/3 short stories for Takogami

The ridge of elders was usually freezing at, really, any time of year. On this occasion, however, Drae and Steve could barely feel the cold. He had been guided up onto the ridge by a set of pretty glowy lights. If Drae had been taught anything growing up, it was that ‘always follow the nice lights’. They were said to bring goodluck and now this big booming voice was congratulating him on his leadership skills. Steve was entirely convinced that this ‘Aippaq’ fellow had gotten Drae mixed up with some other mouth breather but here they were. Ahead of them floated a pouch of herbs, being spectral at first, and then fading into a very real cloth back to be plopped in front of Drae. For your ailing friend. Aippaq had told Drae when he attempted to inhale the herbs. He paused for a moment as he remembered his task that he had set out with. He paused for a second while his tail started to wiggle with excitement. Will it cure him? He questioned the all powerful being with the innocence of a pup. He felt at peace, even in the presence of this god, and he sat his butt down in the cold snow. He had almost fallen off the ledge a few times but Steve’s insistent flapping, and slaps, had kept him on the ledge. With the pouch in his mouth he received a confirming pat on the head from the spectral being. Yes, it shall cure all those that consume it. Aippaq spoke with a booming voice, being eager to send Drae off before they decided that he was not a good candidate for having his wish granted. In many ways, Drae was a very innocent soul. In others, he did not have a whole lot of life skills. THIS WILL CURE INKY AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE. He practically sung in an off-tune as they travelled back down the ridge. The night had started crashing down on them and he had been raised well enough to know that the ridge of elders was an uncomfortable place to sleep in. OKAY, BACK HOME NOW. He told the very relieved eagle as he bobbed up and down onto Drae’s back. His expression revealed his utter hatred for this mutt and the large clouds of bad breath that hit him like a trail of smoke after a train. Perhaps the train smelled better than this anomaly if it had been fuelled by deer faeces and probably better company as well. Home sounds good- Steve’s voice was interrupted by the false tunes that filled the windy weather and seemed to almost over power it. ON THE ROAD AGAIN, I CAN’T WAIT TO BE ON THE ROAD AGAIN~ He sang. All. The. Way. Home. Drae had a single track mind and the ‘in built’ radio feature had the same single track on repeat. By the end of the trip, Steve would have many nightmares about the same poorly sung song with barely recalled lyrics.

Word count: 504

👍: 0 ⏩: 1

Fail-Seeker [2016-07-18 17:19:18 +0000 UTC]

Beautiful work here!

👍: 0 ⏩: 1