by RαrєHuskíєs » Tue Aug 02, 2011 5:05 pm
¢нαρтєя 5: ƒσυη∂
It had been a couple hours, I remember, before I awoke again, the sleet having stopped, it covering my coat, frosty and cold. I shivered, remembering the events of the day like a semi hitting me. I whimpered, and backed away from my cold mum, sitting down on the side of the road, wrapping my tail around my cold fur, trying to warm myself up. I wondered where my father was, and where Tara was too.
I whined, and backed up a few more feet, contemplating whether or not I should go back to the barn. There was nothing left there for me. My father couldn't raise me, and my brothers and sisters meant not a dime to me, but my mother, my sweet, sweet mother, she had been my life, the very breath I breathe, the sight in my eyes, and the beat to my heart, and now she was gone, and it was my fault. A warm, salty tear trailed down my icy muzzle, dripping off, and splashing with a silent sound to the ground.
I started in the other direction, the way to truck that had hit her had come from, my tail tucked in between my legs, my head lowered, my eyes darting nervously around while I broke into a run, my young puppy legs carrying me not very fast, but my endurance was incredible for my age. I knew I shouldn't leave my mother, but I was so young, and I hadn't an idea what to do.
Tears rolled like rain down my cheeks, my blue eyes pained and full of sorrow. I looked up, my ears going back. The skies had cleared, a brilliant shine coming through, the could parting, and softening to a white fluffy color. I sighed, shaking slightly with sadness, and nervousness. I hadn't a clue in the world where I was going. I knew they would find my mother, and come after me, but they wouldn't find me, for I would be long gone.
I was maybe a mile down the road now, my paws starting to hurt, for even though I had a brilliant endurance, my paws were not made of steel. I came to a slow stop, the side of the road not as slippery anymore. I laid down, resting my head on my cold paws, letting out a shaky sigh, not knowing what to do now, where to go. I whined once more, before closing my eyes totally, falling into a quick sleep.
I woke up, a rattling sound in my ears, a pane of glass pressed against my nose. I jolted up, the air around me whooshing. It smelled familiar. I looked to my side, and saw Tara sitting there, her arms crossed, tears staining her pretty pale face. I whined, and she turned to look at me, her ankle in a cast. I tilted my head, remembering her slip, on my part, and I hung my head. They had found me, and all my damage. She shook her head slowly, looking away from me once more. Her grandfather was in the driver seat, his face pained, and his eyes swollen red, from what seemed like crying. I whined louder this time, and he turned to look at me, speaking to me, kindly even. "Oh Koda, young pup. We found your mother. We have to go back to the farm now. I figure your father is missing you. You'll be safer back there anywho" he finished, looking back to the road as we turned into the road to the ranch, pulling up by the barn.
That was when I realized no one knew what had really happened. I slightly gulped as Tara carried me out the car, being careful not to slip on her cast, hurting herself again. She carried me into the barn, setting me into the stall where I was born, my brothers and sisters milling around aimlessly, not a clue in the world, and even if they did, it didn't seem like they minded much. I sighed, shaking out m coat, laying down as soon as I hit the floor. My eyes fluttered, and before they closed, I felt a warm lick on my nose, and I thought it was my mom, but there was my dad, curling up next to me. "Sleep well, Koda pup" he whispered. And yes, it was quite a surprise...
Last edited by
RαrєHuskíєs on Thu Aug 04, 2011 1:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
“𝙳𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠.”
― 𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝙶𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚝