STUCK IN YOUR WONDERLAND
His paws ached. His head ached. His body ached. His stomach grumbled.
He didn't have to keep moving, he was miles upon miles upon miles away from his homeland, safe and sound in his shame-fueled flight from the disgrace he ran from. And his body knew that. Every fiber beneath his thick pelt screamed at him to stop, screamed at him that he had gone too far. But he wasn't going to. Ramos' body had made a decision once that cost him everything and he wasn't about to listen to it now.
Even when his paws felt as tho they were going to jump right off of his long legs and lose themselves in the deep snow, he couldn't stop moving. The scent of other wolves got stronger and stronger the longer he flirted with the edge of the deep green forest and with it his guilty began to rise and burn through his chest. This was a new land, filled with new scents, a new culture. No one here would know of his transgression.
or do they? they'll find out. you're a coward. you'll fuck up again. keep moving.
Ramos shook his great, pale head and turned it to cast his gaze over the land ahead of him as cypress trees begin to rise around him and the grass beneath his paws dwindled to be replaced by sheets of ice. His lopsided gait barely kept up with the pace of the brute in control until the ice cracked under the weight of his left leg and gave way to brackish water. He nearly fell into it, ears slapping against his skull and burying themselves in his ochre hackles as he winced in pain from the weight on his sore leg. Even though he caught himself, the moment he pulled his paw out of the water, Ramos let out a frustrated bark. Backing away slowly, he began to assess himself. His paws ached. His head ached. His body ached. His stomach grumbled. He was tired. He was sweaty. He was dirty. He hadn't even noticed the spittle that collected along his chin and the fur along his cheeks from his lolling tongue. A prickling sensation crept up his spine as he glanced down at his muddy paws while the scent of rotting vegetation rose out of the cracked ice.
A low growl rumbled out out his curled lips.
He forced himself to bury the pain of his bad limb and he hobbled backwards on three legs, desperately trying to clean his left leg and get off of the iced-over swamp before he had a repeat of his misadventure.
RAMOS :: BOUND TO NONE :: LONER