Kit Love:
Chapter 2- Hope and High Spirits
He licked his lips hastily and tossed away the remains of his dinner. There was always fresh fruit of some sort to be found in the Makai, and this area was no exception. Though the selection was noticeably more scarce now since there hadn't really been much water for them to grow on.
The stars wheeling overhead shone even brighter with the lack of moonlight. The glittered like millions of diamonds, winking and shimmering as they danced their ageless dance. He felt the cool night breeze ruffle his hair and wash away the heat from his reddened cheeks. Breathing in deeply, he soothed his dust-coated lungs with the cool air. Nighttime swirled alive around him, living darkness that coiled itself around the land, covering and overtaking it.
Stretching, Shuurai let out a loud yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth. He desperately wanted to stop and sleep but still had not seen anything sufficient enough for cover. Tearing out his hair tie, he ran the slender fingers of one hand through the unruly strands and let the wind swirl them around his face. Walking down that road, hair blowing and eyes glowing, he had no idea how much he looked like his parents.
Finally coming upon a larger grove of trees then those he had passed earlier that night, he heaved a sigh of relief and turned his tired feet off the road. Entering the grove and heading deep into it's heart, he found a sturdy tree branch high off the ground and made it up in two powerful, almost effortless leaps.
Settling the sword at his waist and offering up a silent prayer to whoever it was that watched over him, he dropped the barriers that had been holding sleep off and let the welcome relief wash over him like a flood. Clutching the picture shred in one small hand, he drifted off to sleep with the sounds of crickets chirping and the far-off song of a flock of night birds echoing in his golden fox ears.
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A sharp jab to his hip awoke the young fox with a start; upon looking down, he found that the hilt of his trusted sword was the culprit. Sighing and stretching, much like a cat, he jumped lithely down from his lofty perch and snatched a handful of berries off a nearby tree for breakfast. Even though the berries were shriveled and somewhat dry, they at least took the edge off the sharp pang of hunger in his gut.
Birds wheeled and soared overhead, their bright colors a sharp contrast to the cloudless blue sky; their song filled his ears and lifted his spirits, today was the day! He would find his parents today, he could feel it.
And that morning was just the kind of morning to make anyone feel like that, to make anyone feel that anything and everything was possible. It was a day for discoveries and a day for reminiscing; a day for journeys and a day for homecomings. The morning air was laden with fresh dew and promises newly made and interlaced with the sweet sense of a victory already won.
Yes, today would be the day.
Sweeping his hair up once more, Shuurai jogged back to the dusty path, his feet already kicking up dust clouds with every light footfall. Realizing he still had the picture clutched in one clawed hand, he let his eyes linger upon its faded image for a moment before stuffing it back into his pocket where it belonged. Hope lingered in his eyes and on his face, giving him back the fresh, young look that had deserted him years ago.
For the little fox had grown old before his time; the lack of parents or adult influence in one's life could do that. With no one to look out for you, you learn to fend for yourself, to trust no one and depend on no one. You could never tell when someone would leave or decide you weren't worth it anymore, and when that happened you ended up right back where you started. So it was better just to not trust anyone in the first place and rely on your own instinct and knowledge to keep you alive.
And that was just what Shuurai had done. For as long as he could remember, he had lived on his own, fighting his way into society and proving to the world that he was not a hopeless pity case. If there was one thing that Shuurai wouldn't put up with even more then charity, it was pity; he could stand to see the sympathetic, pitying look in other's eyes when they found out he was basically an orphan. And no matter how many times he told them that he wasn't an orphan, that his parents hadn't left him, and that they were alive waiting for him to find him, they still pitied the young kitsune.
So he had given up on even telling people his history; he had learned by now that the less people knew about you, the better. Your business was your business and no one else had a right to know. Everyone had secrets to be kept and if they kept their nose out of your life, you would keep yours out of theirs.
With these depressing thoughts flitting through his head, Shuurai felt his spirits slip a notch. Resolving to not think about anything along those lines, he banished those thoughts with a practiced ease and turned back to his comforting newfound hope. He would let nothing destroy his chances today, let nothing bring him down.
"I'm coming mom…I'm coming dad…hold on just a little longer. I'm coming."
Chapter 3- Food and Omens
