I carried my own ashes to the mountains
Crisp morning air settled on his fur as he stalked the foundations of the land. Massive paws pressed into the snow, leaving their predacious tracks behind, indicators of his presence to any other creatures wandering in the midst. Today should’ve been for contemplation, for the way the earth shifted and maneuvered again and again, tossing and turning him, and so many others, about. He’d prefer it to yield to hunting, where he might snag at a hare, a roosting grouse, or a deer fallen behind its herd.
Companions left at his shelter, he was alone in the mystique, in the potential for annihilation. He lifted his hound nose to the sky, ears twisting towards any sounds – when he heard it.
A bell.
Narrowing his eyes in confusion, for there was naught seemingly around for quite a ways along the ivory hills, he tilted his skull a fraction, before following it, muzzle to the snow, as if he might pick up on an elusive scent.
Companions left at his shelter, he was alone in the mystique, in the potential for annihilation. He lifted his hound nose to the sky, ears twisting towards any sounds – when he heard it.
A bell.
Narrowing his eyes in confusion, for there was naught seemingly around for quite a ways along the ivory hills, he tilted his skull a fraction, before following it, muzzle to the snow, as if he might pick up on an elusive scent.
DEIMOS
