Wings and Penny: The Way Home
[OOC: May and Jewel played by and © Soteria; Memo and Hollywood played by and © Blueflyer.]
The day had dawned cool and fresh as any other, but now the sun was high in the sky and the heat had been intensifying with every hour of its climb. Yeesh, the young woman thought, lifting her legs high to step through the long grass without tripping up. Behind her, the White Foam River burbled gently along its course, and beyond that was the town that she and her companions had left behind. Her thin cotton shirt was soaked with sweat, and she was wishing she hadn't chosen to wear her denim cutoffs.
I mean, I hoped it wouldn't rain today, but this might be just as awful.
Yet May had insisted they try anyway. Don't let the sun spoil their plans for a picnic. Johnny was out of town visiting his family, so it was just the pair of them. Beth pushed strands of her curly brown hair out of her eyes as she gazed ruefully ahead at her friend, a slight wry smile on her face. Hefting the picnic basket on her shoulder, she kept walking steadily. May had said she knew of a good place out here where they could sit and eat and enjoy the relatively unspoiled beauty of the countryside surrounding the town.
Oh well. It was probably good she should come back here again. Closure, perhaps, she might find here.
The last time she had been on the other side of the river, she had nearly cried herself hoarse calling for her lost dogs. She had gone as far as she dared, had enlisted the help of people to search the area. But even of the great monster dog there had been no sign. Beth sighed. It still tightened her chest, being here again. Winter had come and gone, and she was beginning to wonder if Penny and Wings were even alive. She had heard of whippets surviving as strays on instincts alone, but this was the wilderness with its maze of field and forest. So much could happen here to an animal that wasn't familiar with its surroundings. And Penny and Wings had certainly never been here before.
Beth sniffed, rubbing a sweat-grimed arm across her face somewhat crossly. It'd probably never stop hurting, but all she could do was keep going.
That awful whining buzz, followed by the tickle of tiny legs on her ear. Irritably, the copper coloured whippet flicked the ear in question, but the fly only buzzed around some more before coming to rest again. With a half-snarl, Penny shook her entire head and snapped at the tickling thing. This was no time for her to have to deal with such pests. It was too warm this day, and despite Penny's short coat her breath was coming in heavy pants as she lay on her side, in her own whelping corner of the den.
The puppies were moaning and crying at her from the curve of her body in which they lay, and she put her ears back in consternation. She had already suckled them that day; she had no more milk to give. Why did they cry so? How could they still be hungry? Penny too whined low in her throat. The noises tore at her heart, but she too was hungry. Even with the fine feasting they had had a week ago when they were first born, feeding these six pups had proved to be hard work. It seemed they did nothing but hunt now. Penny sorely missed running and hunting with the rest, missed being part of the warm cosy pile they had all curled into every night. Together, that way, they had weathered the winter relatively unscathed. Ironically enough their hardships had seemed to come with the spring.
"Shh... shh," she whined fretfully, nuzzling and licking at them to try and still them and their hunger, their noise! One of the dog pups, the largest and firstborn, had managed to drag himself halfway up her flank, and she gently put him back in his place. Turning her face towards the entrance, she waited, longingly, for her companions to return.
( hitch a ride on the back of a butterfly, there's no better way to fly, to get to me )
The day had dawned cool and fresh as any other, but now the sun was high in the sky and the heat had been intensifying with every hour of its climb. Yeesh, the young woman thought, lifting her legs high to step through the long grass without tripping up. Behind her, the White Foam River burbled gently along its course, and beyond that was the town that she and her companions had left behind. Her thin cotton shirt was soaked with sweat, and she was wishing she hadn't chosen to wear her denim cutoffs.
I mean, I hoped it wouldn't rain today, but this might be just as awful.
Yet May had insisted they try anyway. Don't let the sun spoil their plans for a picnic. Johnny was out of town visiting his family, so it was just the pair of them. Beth pushed strands of her curly brown hair out of her eyes as she gazed ruefully ahead at her friend, a slight wry smile on her face. Hefting the picnic basket on her shoulder, she kept walking steadily. May had said she knew of a good place out here where they could sit and eat and enjoy the relatively unspoiled beauty of the countryside surrounding the town.
Oh well. It was probably good she should come back here again. Closure, perhaps, she might find here.
The last time she had been on the other side of the river, she had nearly cried herself hoarse calling for her lost dogs. She had gone as far as she dared, had enlisted the help of people to search the area. But even of the great monster dog there had been no sign. Beth sighed. It still tightened her chest, being here again. Winter had come and gone, and she was beginning to wonder if Penny and Wings were even alive. She had heard of whippets surviving as strays on instincts alone, but this was the wilderness with its maze of field and forest. So much could happen here to an animal that wasn't familiar with its surroundings. And Penny and Wings had certainly never been here before.
Beth sniffed, rubbing a sweat-grimed arm across her face somewhat crossly. It'd probably never stop hurting, but all she could do was keep going.
----------------------
That awful whining buzz, followed by the tickle of tiny legs on her ear. Irritably, the copper coloured whippet flicked the ear in question, but the fly only buzzed around some more before coming to rest again. With a half-snarl, Penny shook her entire head and snapped at the tickling thing. This was no time for her to have to deal with such pests. It was too warm this day, and despite Penny's short coat her breath was coming in heavy pants as she lay on her side, in her own whelping corner of the den.
The puppies were moaning and crying at her from the curve of her body in which they lay, and she put her ears back in consternation. She had already suckled them that day; she had no more milk to give. Why did they cry so? How could they still be hungry? Penny too whined low in her throat. The noises tore at her heart, but she too was hungry. Even with the fine feasting they had had a week ago when they were first born, feeding these six pups had proved to be hard work. It seemed they did nothing but hunt now. Penny sorely missed running and hunting with the rest, missed being part of the warm cosy pile they had all curled into every night. Together, that way, they had weathered the winter relatively unscathed. Ironically enough their hardships had seemed to come with the spring.
"Shh... shh," she whined fretfully, nuzzling and licking at them to try and still them and their hunger, their noise! One of the dog pups, the largest and firstborn, had managed to drag himself halfway up her flank, and she gently put him back in his place. Turning her face towards the entrance, she waited, longingly, for her companions to return.
( hitch a ride on the back of a butterfly, there's no better way to fly, to get to me )