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Post by Graydon Konrad Taylor on Jul 17, 2011 9:16:26 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i51.tinypic.com/2igiyh1.jpg] The sun was taking it's sweet time rising over the horizon, though the burning red in the sky wasn't the only light on the quiet beach. The remnant embers of a campfire sizzled and popped off in the sand, though there were no flames to flicker any more. Those had died out sometime during the night. It was a lonely scene, with the fire unattended and the single blanket that had been slept on already folded neatly, the few other things that had been brought set on top of it. The blue roan mare was tied to a tree, her tack resting on a thick tree branch. The person, however, was nowhere in sight. At least, not there.
Instead, he floated on his back in the cold water of the lake. It seemed perfectly serene, really, but it was far from it, even as the gentle waves brought him back to the wet sand of the shallow edges, his hands rested behind his head, eyes staring up at the lightening sky. But, they were dark, remembering. The four pale scars along his upper body ached, though the one on his right shoulder hurt the worst. One would think the pain, simply remembered and not truly there, would have been greater in the shot that had gone right through him, the one in his stomach, but it never had been. It was always the shoulder, where the bone had given way to the force of the bullet. He winced as the memory replayed and the pain spiked for a moment. It didn't have to be an open wound for it to hurt, psychological influence was easily enough.
The memory was cut short by a dark gray nose decorated with white pressing against his forehead, lips playing with his hair. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd closed, and looked up to those dark brown, expressive eyes that appeared sympathetic, as if Chet somehow knew exactly what was going on in his head. He wouldn't put it past her, either. She rarely untied herself for no reason. With a soft sigh, he wrapped his head around her halter, clucking softly. Her head rose, pulling him up a bit and he stumbled back to his feet, hand scratching her forehead and whispering a soft word of praise.
She snorted at him, as if calling him out on being lazy, but it didn't bring a smile to his face as it normally would. It was just one of those days, the bad ones. It made him rather thankful his mother was at the house taking care of the horses and other animals. He'd taken the week off, called in another vet to cover for him. He'd had that stupid award ceremony for the weekend just past, and although he was free for the remaining five days, he knew it would take a bit to refocus, to get past the worst of it, so he'd planned accordingly. So, here he was, in the far reaches of his property where it technically wasn't even his anymore, just getting away from everyone and anyone. Not that he expected anyone to be around here, especially at this time of the morning; then again, something seemed to have caught his mare's attention. He sighed. Of course he couldn't get away; small towns were like that.
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