Apr 4, 2014

Dunkeld

Travelling the wilds of Scotland,

Credit: Myself

The boy crawled across the moss ridden rocks, careful as he placed one foot before the other, not wishing to slip down the cliff face to the writhing waters below.  Keeping to the shadows he held his weight beneath the folly outlook, struggling to breathe between the cacophony of the waterfall and the blood pounding in his ears.  Feeling dirt trickle down his neck he strained to catch the voices floating above.

"This will mean war-" he heard the womans voice flare under the restraint of keeping a hushed tone as the partition clasped shut behind them, jewellery chiming as though limbs were being tossed in frustration.   Daring to edge closer Kowl felt his stomach disappear as the sodden moss beneath his cramped footing broke free.  Sinking his teeth into his lip to strangle the yelp that threatened to cry out he lunged for an ornate post circling the outlook, holding his breath as his arm strained to catch his weight.  Tasting bitter salt in his mouth heard nothing but silence from above, praying they had moved inside and he could save himself unnoticed.  Preparing to hoist himself upwards Kowl froze as a heavy boot pressed down on his fingers, a face contorted in venomous rage glaring down at him from the balustrade.  Staring back he could not help the hatred that burned in his own eyes just as deeply.

"Long live-!" His shout was cut short as a searing pain erupted down his arm, the sickening crunch of the boot against his bones forcing his fingers to release, sentencing him to the ravine below.

From sjp.

4 comments:

  1. Just when he was becoming a character I cared about, you killed him. Or did you? Good writing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Or did I indeed? ;) I've grown quite fond of him since this morning also haha

      Delete
  2. Is this the start of something epic? I sense rebellion, revolution. I sense a very good story.

    Sania @ Fragile Words

    ReplyDelete

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