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 Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 2:58 pm
Zeke had been having a great day- wonderful! The sun was out, it wasn't too hot or too cold- it was just ideal. Until, that is, his nose caught a familiar scent on the breeze. A rainstorm was making its way toward the mountains where he was, and they were about to drop a load of water. Zeke was very selective about getting wet. He liked to play in rivers and in water, he liked to bite at waves that crashed at his feet when at a lake, but... Well, rain was typically that type of water that he did not like.
It wasn't raining yet, but the shepherd decided that he needed to get to some shelter before it got too bad. Grabbing up his latest stick from the ground at his paws, he started off toward the mountain. Odds were highest that he'd find some cranny to hang out in before it started there.
He was wrong, though. In his search, he found himself at the foot of the mountain, starting to get all wet, and still looking for a place to go. "Great, juft great," he muttered through the stick in his mouth.
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 11:34 pm
The sent was definatly in the air, the sent of a storm. Though that did not cause Coon's paws to falter. He was not bothered by rain, it was not by far the worst he's been through. As the sky finally let loose he moved towards the trees to seek some cover.
It didnt take him long, he knew this area like the back of his paw, to find the cave he had been staying in. Stepping out of the rain, he lowered his head before shaking the remaining water from his coat.
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Posted: Fri Jul 09, 2010 3:53 pm
Zeke was glad to find a random little cave in very little time after that. He picked up the pace to a full gallop, mud splashing up to his elbows and knees in the process. The mud didn't bother him, though. The storm did. If it started to lightning, well, that wouldn't be fun. He never felt comfortable in lightning. He leapt in, skidded to a stop, dropped his stick (which still had momentum from his run, so it rolled a little bit after it hit the ground) and shimmied.
"Much better," he said to himself before he noticed a distinct smell: another dog. He looked up to see an older shepherd, with plenty of scars. He judged that to mean that either the dog was a terrible fighter and got wounded a lot, or that he was a decent fighter and had been in a lot of difficult fights. It was tough to decide which.
"Sorry for the intrusion," he said stiffly, unsure of what the stranger's temperament was, and prepared for anything. He reached out his paw to his stick and dragged it back towards himself, to his feet. "Do you mind if I wait out the storm here?" he asked.
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