Nico hated many things. He hated the way his fur felt when wet. He hated waking up early and hunting for his food. He hated when the day turned to night and the darkness swept across the earth, leaving nothing but the tiny glow of the moon to light his step. But most of all, he was beginning to hate walking the most.
His paws had carried him through valleys and mountain ranges, plains and forests, and still they did not stop. He carried on, pushing forward from days on end—and he was bored. Tired and exhausted, sure, but so fucking bored.
He didn’t quite know what he was looking for, but Nico was sure that when he ultimately found it, he’d know. But that logic only got him so far.
Far enough to ‘here’. Wherever here was.
Through the jagged peaks of the mountain range behind him, he followed the twisting curves of the river. Following its crested pathway as though it were breadcrumbs leading him to something great. But with each long and boring step came the assault of sharp rocks between his toes, and the god awful spray of water and snow above him.
In short, his fur was also getting wet. Another tick to the list of things he hated.
Nico grumbled through clenched teeth as he followed the river’s carved out path. All up until he had caught the sight of a large rock, and beneath its looming perch, the valley beneath.
He couldn’t help himself. The boredom was nearly tangible, like a rope around his throat. He leapt towards it, paws fumbling against a thin sheet of ice that lied atop. But when his limbs had settled and his balance was found, the boy shook out a howl.
One loud enough for the valley to hear.
Nico had arrived.
His paws had carried him through valleys and mountain ranges, plains and forests, and still they did not stop. He carried on, pushing forward from days on end—and he was bored. Tired and exhausted, sure, but so fucking bored.
He didn’t quite know what he was looking for, but Nico was sure that when he ultimately found it, he’d know. But that logic only got him so far.
Far enough to ‘here’. Wherever here was.
Through the jagged peaks of the mountain range behind him, he followed the twisting curves of the river. Following its crested pathway as though it were breadcrumbs leading him to something great. But with each long and boring step came the assault of sharp rocks between his toes, and the god awful spray of water and snow above him.
In short, his fur was also getting wet. Another tick to the list of things he hated.
Nico grumbled through clenched teeth as he followed the river’s carved out path. All up until he had caught the sight of a large rock, and beneath its looming perch, the valley beneath.
He couldn’t help himself. The boredom was nearly tangible, like a rope around his throat. He leapt towards it, paws fumbling against a thin sheet of ice that lied atop. But when his limbs had settled and his balance was found, the boy shook out a howl.
One loud enough for the valley to hear.
Nico had arrived.