A whine filled the air, followed by a low growl. I winced, shutting my eyes against the glare of the sun. I had been in the shade, sleeping, but the damned clouds fooled me, again. I had laid down, thinking to nap in the early morning with the fog thick and the clouds heavy, only to fall fully asleep. And then the fog lifted, and the clouds moved, and, I burned. My nose and mouth were on fire. I whined as I stood up, closing my eyes tight against the bright light of the sun. Damned fall, it was so deceiving some times. I had been lounging closer to the water, and now, I was running for the shadows of the grotto.
The whine reverberated in my chest, rattling in such a way that was echoing in the hollow rock formations. I wandered, deeper and deeper into the darkness, my eyes blinking against the darkness. The skin was already blistering, a sure sign that I had slept way longer than I had planned on, at least three hours of direct sun on my face. I couldn't even lick my lips without growling in pain. Let alone if I brushed my nose against a rock. I huffed as I finally came to a place where there was absolutely no light.
I held my breath as I laid down, letting the cold rock envelop me, soothing the burns on my face. I blinked slowly, realizing that the sun had even reached the delicate skin that runs up the center of my face. Great. Just effing great. THIS was the reason I stayed away from the sun. I always ended up hurt and healing for days. I know I should be out looking for stuff to soothe the burns, but they hurt too much to move. So, I would wallow instead.
I know I'm pathetic, but then again, I have vitiligio, I burn about 20x faster than a white wolf, at least where my skin has no pigment at all. You would think that fall and winter would be perfect for me, but its really not. In winter, the sunlight reflects up off of the snow and makes me burn too. Along with my paws, if I walk in the snow too long the skin gets irritated and raw. I don't like it, but it's my life.
The whine settles back into my chest when I move, my head scraping on the ground a little too close to the burned skin, pulling at it. I gave up, lifting my head up off of the cold ground and laying it across my paws to give it a brace so I wouldn't hurt it, again.
All of this takes my mind off of being alone. Well, not totally. I always feel like he's out there, somewhere, whether I was right or not, I know he's somewhere near. I can always feel it. Not that we ever talk, which, alone is weird. But that's my life.
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ester | 3 | female | 30in, 120lbs | tied to draygo | joey's botched wonder