Post by Lady Ðeadly on Apr 11, 2011 10:15:40 GMT -8
...To be anxious and have the feeling that somebody is going to do something unpleasant or harmful to you.....
The soft dapple darkness spread across the ruins, accompanied by the slight sound of something scurrying across the ground.
Upon closer inspection of the remains of a flower bed, it seemed as through a piece of the shadows itself has detached itself for a moment before frantically scurrying across the sidewalk before merging again with the shadow if a garbage receptacle. In the shades of gloom, two tiny pinpricks of light peered out nervously from the depths of the battered and beaten can.
It had been a long day of sneaking around, he had hid indoors resting while the sun was overhead and was just coming out as the sun went down. Scotia enjoyed running around in the dark better than skulking around in the day, His dark pinstripe cloth bended better and kept him hidden from all prying eyes.
Today hadn’t been so bad, he had found quite a few interesting things and they were slung behind him in his makeshift rucksack he had hastily made. Perhaps he could trade it for some thread and more needles.
He gave a small sigh, his final needle had snapped the other day quite by accident, and with it had gone any current hope of fixing his beloved cape. He gave it a weak glance as is trembled feebly in the breeze, a sharp rip running through it's edge. At the very least, his hat was perfectly fine, its brim concealing his vision ever so slightly from above, its familiar weight keeping him calm. He never did feel right if he didn’t have his hat.
Focus focus focus
He fingered the edge of his hat ever so slightly, he was getting nervous again. He would even ramble in his mind when he did. He needed to focus on the task ahead. Finding someone to trade.
And not dying. Not dying would be nice.
The soft dapple darkness spread across the ruins, accompanied by the slight sound of something scurrying across the ground.
Upon closer inspection of the remains of a flower bed, it seemed as through a piece of the shadows itself has detached itself for a moment before frantically scurrying across the sidewalk before merging again with the shadow if a garbage receptacle. In the shades of gloom, two tiny pinpricks of light peered out nervously from the depths of the battered and beaten can.
It had been a long day of sneaking around, he had hid indoors resting while the sun was overhead and was just coming out as the sun went down. Scotia enjoyed running around in the dark better than skulking around in the day, His dark pinstripe cloth bended better and kept him hidden from all prying eyes.
Today hadn’t been so bad, he had found quite a few interesting things and they were slung behind him in his makeshift rucksack he had hastily made. Perhaps he could trade it for some thread and more needles.
He gave a small sigh, his final needle had snapped the other day quite by accident, and with it had gone any current hope of fixing his beloved cape. He gave it a weak glance as is trembled feebly in the breeze, a sharp rip running through it's edge. At the very least, his hat was perfectly fine, its brim concealing his vision ever so slightly from above, its familiar weight keeping him calm. He never did feel right if he didn’t have his hat.
Focus focus focus
He fingered the edge of his hat ever so slightly, he was getting nervous again. He would even ramble in his mind when he did. He needed to focus on the task ahead. Finding someone to trade.
And not dying. Not dying would be nice.