:: It has gone on for three sunrises.
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:: It has gone on for three sunrises. Every time you pause to drink from a break in ice of the brook, or to nibble the uncommon softer bark of the austere black and white trees — every time you pause from motion it is not long before you hear it, before you smell it.
The thin bald wolf of two legs. The creature is not substantial, not even wrapped in the skin of your mate of last spring— and somehow— no matter how well you hide your tracks it is never far behind. Shuffling, always towards you.
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myrmepropagandistreplied to myrmepropagandist last edited by
How does it know! How can it still follow when you hide your tracks in water— when you cut under pine needles to keep your tracks from the snow. How is it that you never have more than a few moments peace before you must run again and put some distance between you and the shuffling pile of grizzly furs?
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@futurebird bluetooth tracker and drones...
