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Post by WarPaint on May 15, 2018 0:21:18 GMT
He was a dog of the prairies and plains. Not of seaweed and saltwater. The large brute stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sand dunes. His brutish head swung low and wide to take in all of the scents available. So unique was the taste of the ocean on his lips. A sneeze rippled through his shoulders like an earthquake, shaking the mass of the behemoth. Glorious rushes of endorphins ruffled his muscles, causing him to bow into a long stretch.
The groan that escaped his jaw was not one of pain but of pleasure. Brans toughened feet sunk into wet sand and he wriggled his toes against the foreign sensation. Blue and brown eyes watched the waves as they sought purchase on the shore, only to be pulled back out to mother ocean. This constant cessation was different from the swirling and swaying of whippoorwills and prairie grass. The ocean was a beast it's own and Bran knew instantly that to battle her will was a battle to be lost. It was entrancing for the swiss brute to see the way ocean commanded all around it. Snatching back the items it had lost and replacing them with new treasure for others to enjoy.
He could understand on an intrinsic level the open sea. She took as much as she gave, as was the essence of one of the titans of nature. Bran drew himself to his full height, shaking out his pelt. He was bemused by the sensation of the sand leaving his coat, gritty and not too different from his home dirt.
”I miss home…” thought Bran to himself. Without his master he had no job. And no job, was like a death sentence for him. It made him listless and although he had excitement for the world around him, it felt pointless without a direction. A sense of belonging in the world was what made his motor run. It filled his heart and bones with a warmth unexplainable. Like a machine, work oiled his gears. When left stagnant his precision became dull and listless. Bran always knew he would work until his heart beat out of his chest and lay still at his feet.
Like a beacon a building in the distance called to the beast. Like him, it had been forgotten and tossed to the side. Once a pillar of strength and direction. A lighthouse. Curiosity boiled through the normally stoic hound. But at least now he had a purpose; to explore that wretched building. Bran launched himself into a ground covering stride. Faltering and stumbling here and there because of the uneven nature of the sand. His muscles burned from the different terrain but he savored the feeling. Letting it warm him from his toes to his shoulders. Of only livestock bloated and dodged before him.
His half white face was now warped into ghastly smirk of half joy and need. It took a grueling half hour for Bran to reach his destination. But reach it, he did. The lighthouse smelled old and decayed, rotten in some places but some of the concrete slabs still stood resilient. The brute wandered about, searching for an entrance and taking in the grand size of the light tower. He finally found a wooden door hanging on creaking hinges that screamed their protest at being used further. Bran bolstered his way beyond the door, making the wood yield until it threatened to break beneath his physique. It granted him access just short of being reduced to sea soaked plunder.
The lighthouse itself was warm and well salted. Everything tasted and smelled of the ocean. Sand had begun piling against the sides of the wall and places where the concrete had deteriorated allowed for gaps of sunlight to peel through. A wooden staircase, well preserved, laid pressed against the farthest wall. Winding, like a snake, up the heights of the building. Bran made his way over and followed the warm wood upwards. Reaching the top of his path, bran was met with the divinity of a sunset. Purpleish hues transcended into smattering of blues and pinks, with faint oranges clinging to where the sun still peaked out. The Whitecaps of waves glistened beneath the divine touch.
These aren't the sunsets you got at home. Bran laid down, flattening himself to concrete and sand. Behind him lay the grand old light itself, a stoic figure, complacent at its retirement. Bean was entranced thoroughly and so did not hear the soft patter of paws behind him. The brutes blue and brown eyes sought to understand the foreign world before him not the foreign stranger shadowing him. His tail thumped quietly against the floor, contentment was beginning to radiate through him. As well as the faint pangs of hunger.
------OOC------ FEEL FREE TO GOD MOD OPEN to all written on mobile, I apologize for typos or mistakes. Word count...who knows
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