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 Posted: Wed Jan 10, 2018 1:29 am
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Posted: Wed Jan 10, 2018 2:01 am
He wasn’t dead. That was the first thing he realized when consciousness came back. If he had been dead, it wouldn’t have hurt so much. His lungs ached. His body felt weak, torn, shredded. Breathing hurt. He wasn’t blissfully dead. He was alive and not so well.
Letting out a groan, he moved his head a bit, further into the material under his head. Thoughts were slowly drifting in, trickling. He had been… running. His pack had found him. Had torn into him. He barely had gotten away. It pained him to run but there were too many and he wouldn’t have lasted. He needed to live on. Blood had seeped into his eyes, blinding him. So when there was suddenly no ground under his feet, shock and fear gushed through him. He fell. Right off a cliff.
It wasn’t long before he hit the ground. It mustn’t have been a very large cliff but he felt a leg almost instantly swell. A fracture, probably. Lights danced behind his eyes, chest heaving. But he had to get away. And so, he did, pushing himself, stumbling. The cliff slowed down the pack. And eventually, he lost them. But he couldn’t stop.
The memories were fuzzy from there. He had been wandering. There was hunger. There was pain. He felt hot, he had the chills. His leg swelled. He was exhausted. And still, Ransom kept walking. He kept walking without stop until he couldn’t anymore. There had been… something that had stopped his feet. That finally had him collapsing. His brows furrowed as he tried to recall. A smell was tickling his nose now, as he thought carefully. There had been light… A light streaming through the trees. He had probably been delirious. There looked to be… another wolf. But with his feverish sight, the light streaming down, the peace of the glades. His heart hammered, stuttered, speed up and slowed down. A breathtaking wolf. A wolf that shined bright. His legs had buckled and darkness enveloped him.
And now he was there. His eyes slowly opened as he willed them. He couldn’t be off guard. If death hadn’t claimed him yet, then he would still fight to live. Being off guard was not a way to survive. As awareness came back stronger, he realized his fur was matted with… what was that stuff? It made his nose wrinkle. He tried to get up from his lying position and fell back to the ground. With a growl, he tried again, only managing to roll onto his stomach. Ransom nearly fell back into original position as pain shot through him. His eyes slowly took in the immediate area. A pelt under his head. A sort of salve on his wounds where there wasn’t a cloth wrap. His eyes narrowed as he observed them before his head whipped up, looking around carefully. Someone had done this to him. The quick movement of his head made it feel like his skull was cracking. Someone had touched him while he was unconscious. It rattled him, irked him. His lips peeled back in a sneer as his blue eyes looked sharply about.
w.c.: 525
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