03-14-2021, 09:07 PM
Leash? Leash. Finding anything he himself had not placed was yet another challenge for Jude, but one that he doggedly took on. He slowly scanned the room until he located something leash-like, which he then went over to inspect. Mercifully he was successful on his second guess, and then it was a process of cornering the dog and leashing her. It was clear, by Jude's awkwardness and mannerisms, that he had little experience with animals, and no fondness for them. This was a necessary evil.
Jude dragged Lew by her leash, indifferent to whether or not he was choking her. The floors, mostly wood, offered little opportunity for claws to find purchase. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the air felt heavy with the promise of another storm. Jude had no problem walking straight out the door in the dark -- well, not straight, there was a bit of weaving, but the lack of light did not seem to perturb him. He had either remembered about where the car was, or he could see it, even in shadow.
He felt a little better outside. He felt the wind, tasted the forest. Houses were full of dead things -- stone scraped from the bowels of the earth, trees killed for furniture, refrigerators stocked full of meat. Death had its own appeal, its own feeling of familiarity and connection, but nature felt more... forgiving. Death was very final. Philosophers might call it a new beginning, but they hadn't ever died.
"I hope it's not too far," he wondered aloud. But was it true? No, he did hope it was far. The further away, the better -- the further they'd have to drive. He resolved to articulate the situation to Near once they had a bit more distance between them and the house. Once it felt... safer to do so.
(As if it would ever be safe.)
Jude dragged Lew by her leash, indifferent to whether or not he was choking her. The floors, mostly wood, offered little opportunity for claws to find purchase. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the air felt heavy with the promise of another storm. Jude had no problem walking straight out the door in the dark -- well, not straight, there was a bit of weaving, but the lack of light did not seem to perturb him. He had either remembered about where the car was, or he could see it, even in shadow.
He felt a little better outside. He felt the wind, tasted the forest. Houses were full of dead things -- stone scraped from the bowels of the earth, trees killed for furniture, refrigerators stocked full of meat. Death had its own appeal, its own feeling of familiarity and connection, but nature felt more... forgiving. Death was very final. Philosophers might call it a new beginning, but they hadn't ever died.
"I hope it's not too far," he wondered aloud. But was it true? No, he did hope it was far. The further away, the better -- the further they'd have to drive. He resolved to articulate the situation to Near once they had a bit more distance between them and the house. Once it felt... safer to do so.
(As if it would ever be safe.)