Lost of thoughts

by CraftAids


oepanandry

He stood, bruised under the fur and smelly everywhere, back out on the gravel again. He raised his hung head and stared into the sun. There was a breeze. There was the ever-present need for air. There were sharp, hard edges digging at his keratin. His spine ached slightly and the only emotion that overshadowed his bored uselessness and his scared uncertainty was the reassurance of his ignorance. The future was as open as the past was closed. The only questions were where to go and what he hoped to find there.

He wouldn’t find what he wanted. If he couldn’t find that, food, water, and shelter would be nice. Of course, any good shelter would be owned, but water was easy and food… food might be easy now, too. Living might not be too much work. His body worked, so he should be able to do things. He should be able to grow and learn. There should be people; at least, there were buildings. He couldn’t know who they would be or what he would do. It didn’t matter yet. The only question was where to go.

The village was silent. Scattered scant butterflies flopped in the sky. The leaves in the trees rustled and the sun beat down on the dusty gravel. It was quite courteous of the world to leave him alone for a moment. That breeze was also relaxing. Soon, it would be gone and the sweat trails would resume dripping. The forest would be pleasant, not that he would know anything at all about it. Really, there was no reason to think that it would be better than the village. The village had some sort of life worth living, or there would be no one living there. If they weren‘t friendly, he could run to the road or the forest. The forest had shade while the road was hot. The forest would be better. That was a silly thought, though. The sun wouldn’t always be up. The road would lead to another town. Civilization was far safer. Roads and buildings both lead to everything he knew he wanted. There was no reason to… to… the forest sounded good. There was no question.

He lowered his gaze toward the border. He slowly, carefully trotted under cover.