Misheard Whisper
[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
- 3,488
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Age 29
- Nimbasa Gym
- Seen Oct 3, 2022
Original Story, rated, er...M? Yeah, sounds good ^_^
As the winter landscape flashed by outside the window, Natasha sighed tiredly, shifting her petite form slightly on the hard plastic seat. Resting her head on the window, she let the cold glass soothe her aching head. She watched the frozen countryside speed past outside with a kind of detached interest, jolting slightly every time the train passed over an irregularity in the track.
It was really a very pretty scene. Soft, powdery, crystallised snow blanketed everything in white, slowly but surely burying the world. The late evening sun kissed the treetops, bathing the scene in a warm orange glow that belied the frigid temperature, and a lone scarlet wolf nosed around in the snowdrifts, its russet fur standing out against the whiteness like a drop of blood. As the train passed, it turned its head cautiously, regarding it as a potential threat. Its cold yellow eyes met Natasha's large green ones for a split second before it turned tail and dashed off, out of sight.
Natasha shivered. In the fleeting moment where she had looked into the wolf's eyes, it was as if she had seen its soul. She had seen hunger – the creature had been starving, robbed of its usual food sources by unusually heavy snowfall. She had seen fear – the train, this iron behemoth, had startled it as it went about its business. But standing out above all, she had seen the animal within the animal. She saw the pure, unbridled savagery in the wolf's eyes. She saw the animal instinct. This was an animal surviving the best it could, fighting each day just to stay alive.
Forcing herself to think about something else, Natasha turned away from the window. The encounter with the wolf, even if it had only been for a second, had chilled her to the bone. She could not explain what she had seen – no, felt – in that moment. All she knew was that it scared her.
Shivering again, she turned her attention to her satchel, which lay abandoned on the otherwise empty seat opposite. No one wanted to sit in the same compartment as a weirdo like her... Trying her utmost to ignore this thought, she removed a hefty maths textbook from the satchel and flipped through it to a page covered in incredibly complicated-looking equations. Taking up a pencil, she brushed her loose black hair out of her eyes and set to work. Many things waited for her at the end of the train ride, but she would deal with them as they came. For now, she focused on multiplying algebraic fractions.
"You've got to be kidding me!" said Xavier in a tone of startled disbelief. "It's not possible!"
"I'm afraid it is, young one," said the ancient prophet sadly. "We failed to destroy him at Balgoth, and now he is back, stronger than ever." He hung his head with a deep sigh. "All we can do now is continue to fight, and hope."
"Hope?" burst out Xavier angrily. "Hope for what? There is no hope! How can you say that? Everything we worked for was destroyed! We threw everything at him at Balgoth, and we thought that was enough. Now we have nothing! And-" his voice caught in his throat, but he swallowed hard and continued, "a-and now Irene is dead as well!" Tears welled up in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check.
The older man nodded sympathetically. "Yes, young one, Irene's death was a great loss. But she would want us to continue fighting. There is always hope. Just remember that. Always!" Xavier nodded dumbly. The old man was right. There was always hope. All he had to do was find it.
"I hate it when they end it on a cliffhanger!" muttered Richard in annoyance, snapping the book shut and tossing it on the seat beside him.
"Well, I guess that's how they do it, dude," said the other boy, who sat sprawled on the seat opposite, gazing absently out of the window at the snowy panorama rushing by.
"How would you know, Sam?" asked Richard jokingly. "I didn't even know you could read!" Sam snorted, levering himself into a more comfortable position.
"Very funny, dude," he said, his tone clearly indicating that he was not amused. "I read at least one book a semester, you know." Richard had to suppress a laugh. It was true that literature was not Sam's forte, but even so...
"I guess bashing skulls all day long kills a few million brain cells," he said, deadpan. Sam looked indignant.
"Bashing skulls? It's not like I'm bullfighting or anything. When was the last time you played rugby, dude?" he asked, knowing full well that the tall, slim boy had never so much as touched a rugby ball. Richard sighed.
"Ah, look, just forget it, okay?" he asked, a slight note of desperation suddenly entering his voice. Sam, sensing the change in his friend's attitude, immediately became concerned.
"Are you okay, dude?" he asked, leaning forward slightly to peer into Richard's eyes beneath the curtain of floppy blonde hair.
"Yeah, yeah," said Richard quickly. A little too quickly. Sam frowned.
"Nah, dude, something's bugging you. What's up, dude?" he asked.
"I dunno..." said Richard vaguely, now staring out the window. "It's just... I have a weird feeling about this semester... It's like... something's gonna happen. I don't know what, or how, but I can tell, believe me. Something special is gonna happen, and all we can do is wait for it to arrive..." He trailed off again. Sam's face contorted slightly as he tried to think his way around the statement.
"Whoa, dude, that's...deep, I guess..." Richard nodded almost imperceptibly, before resuming his window vigil as the train sped on through the rapidly dimming evening.
Prologue
As the winter landscape flashed by outside the window, Natasha sighed tiredly, shifting her petite form slightly on the hard plastic seat. Resting her head on the window, she let the cold glass soothe her aching head. She watched the frozen countryside speed past outside with a kind of detached interest, jolting slightly every time the train passed over an irregularity in the track.
It was really a very pretty scene. Soft, powdery, crystallised snow blanketed everything in white, slowly but surely burying the world. The late evening sun kissed the treetops, bathing the scene in a warm orange glow that belied the frigid temperature, and a lone scarlet wolf nosed around in the snowdrifts, its russet fur standing out against the whiteness like a drop of blood. As the train passed, it turned its head cautiously, regarding it as a potential threat. Its cold yellow eyes met Natasha's large green ones for a split second before it turned tail and dashed off, out of sight.
Natasha shivered. In the fleeting moment where she had looked into the wolf's eyes, it was as if she had seen its soul. She had seen hunger – the creature had been starving, robbed of its usual food sources by unusually heavy snowfall. She had seen fear – the train, this iron behemoth, had startled it as it went about its business. But standing out above all, she had seen the animal within the animal. She saw the pure, unbridled savagery in the wolf's eyes. She saw the animal instinct. This was an animal surviving the best it could, fighting each day just to stay alive.
Forcing herself to think about something else, Natasha turned away from the window. The encounter with the wolf, even if it had only been for a second, had chilled her to the bone. She could not explain what she had seen – no, felt – in that moment. All she knew was that it scared her.
Shivering again, she turned her attention to her satchel, which lay abandoned on the otherwise empty seat opposite. No one wanted to sit in the same compartment as a weirdo like her... Trying her utmost to ignore this thought, she removed a hefty maths textbook from the satchel and flipped through it to a page covered in incredibly complicated-looking equations. Taking up a pencil, she brushed her loose black hair out of her eyes and set to work. Many things waited for her at the end of the train ride, but she would deal with them as they came. For now, she focused on multiplying algebraic fractions.
***
"You've got to be kidding me!" said Xavier in a tone of startled disbelief. "It's not possible!"
"I'm afraid it is, young one," said the ancient prophet sadly. "We failed to destroy him at Balgoth, and now he is back, stronger than ever." He hung his head with a deep sigh. "All we can do now is continue to fight, and hope."
"Hope?" burst out Xavier angrily. "Hope for what? There is no hope! How can you say that? Everything we worked for was destroyed! We threw everything at him at Balgoth, and we thought that was enough. Now we have nothing! And-" his voice caught in his throat, but he swallowed hard and continued, "a-and now Irene is dead as well!" Tears welled up in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check.
The older man nodded sympathetically. "Yes, young one, Irene's death was a great loss. But she would want us to continue fighting. There is always hope. Just remember that. Always!" Xavier nodded dumbly. The old man was right. There was always hope. All he had to do was find it.
"I hate it when they end it on a cliffhanger!" muttered Richard in annoyance, snapping the book shut and tossing it on the seat beside him.
"Well, I guess that's how they do it, dude," said the other boy, who sat sprawled on the seat opposite, gazing absently out of the window at the snowy panorama rushing by.
"How would you know, Sam?" asked Richard jokingly. "I didn't even know you could read!" Sam snorted, levering himself into a more comfortable position.
"Very funny, dude," he said, his tone clearly indicating that he was not amused. "I read at least one book a semester, you know." Richard had to suppress a laugh. It was true that literature was not Sam's forte, but even so...
"I guess bashing skulls all day long kills a few million brain cells," he said, deadpan. Sam looked indignant.
"Bashing skulls? It's not like I'm bullfighting or anything. When was the last time you played rugby, dude?" he asked, knowing full well that the tall, slim boy had never so much as touched a rugby ball. Richard sighed.
"Ah, look, just forget it, okay?" he asked, a slight note of desperation suddenly entering his voice. Sam, sensing the change in his friend's attitude, immediately became concerned.
"Are you okay, dude?" he asked, leaning forward slightly to peer into Richard's eyes beneath the curtain of floppy blonde hair.
"Yeah, yeah," said Richard quickly. A little too quickly. Sam frowned.
"Nah, dude, something's bugging you. What's up, dude?" he asked.
"I dunno..." said Richard vaguely, now staring out the window. "It's just... I have a weird feeling about this semester... It's like... something's gonna happen. I don't know what, or how, but I can tell, believe me. Something special is gonna happen, and all we can do is wait for it to arrive..." He trailed off again. Sam's face contorted slightly as he tried to think his way around the statement.
"Whoa, dude, that's...deep, I guess..." Richard nodded almost imperceptibly, before resuming his window vigil as the train sped on through the rapidly dimming evening.