|
Here's a part of my new story. I havn't had much time to go through and edit it well, but it should still be pretty easy to read. I would really like to know what people think of my writing, so please leave me a message. If you like what you read and want to read everything else I have so far on this story, just ask, and I will show.
Balto breathed in slow, letting the air warm in his long sleek muzzle before entering down into his lungs. He had learned to do this in many years living in the cold weather – along with many times he had froze the back of his mouth breathing to fast while sleeping. The pain felt like a hot iron being jammed into his mouth. How he came up with that concept of pain, he didn’t know.
The three flakes stayed still, vibrating low and harmoniously as Balto breathed. The steam from Balto’s exhaled breath collected on the three flakes of ice, bulking them up and making them bigger. In just minutes the three flakes that had started out like shavings of dust were as large as a mouse eye; the perfect size for a dog to gag and choke on and never know what hit him.
Without warning, Balto sucked in hard. It was just his natural reaction to breathe in sharp every now and then when air scarcely entered his lungs at a portion of normal speed. It sent the three flakes into the air. Two of the flakes entered his right nostril, while the third one missed completely and got stuck on the edge of his nose.
It only took a moment for the two flakes to get lodged in Balto’s throat, causing him to gasp like he got a knife wound in the stomach. Balto panicked and threw his feet out from under himself and the blanket, coughing and gasping he rose into the cold grinding his throat in short moans. The blanket fluttered to the floor in a pile. The two flakes melted in just moments, leaving Balto rudely awakened in the cold day.
His throat quickly cleared of any obstructions, Balto looked to the sky in the skinny doorway of the helm. Only moments told him what the days was like “Too cold.” Balto moaned and looked at his blanket wadded on the floor. As he ruffled the blanket with his nose to get it in a better position to crawl under, another sound came, this one from deep within Balto. The sound was like a starving dog growling at comers to his feast.
Balto looked down between his legs at his stomach and watched his fur ripple as another growl echoed up from below. Even though Balto didn’t feel hungry he knew that the feeling wouldn’t last. “Guess I better get something to eat before I go back to sleep.” Balto’s voice was groggy and sleepy sounding from the two days of solid sleep he had retained.
Balto yawned and stretched his body as far as it would go. Turning, he stepped out of the small door to the helm of the boat and looked to the south. The sun had risen, but was imprisoned behind the castle wall of grey clouds. “Looks like another beautiful day.” Balto said sarcastically to himself. He chuckled lightly and turned towards the bow of the boat.
Age began to sneak up on Balto. His walk became slow and jerky and his joints were always just a little bit sorer in the morning. But he couldn’t help that, he was pushing five years old already. Every dog begins to feel the age at some point. Balto thought as he rounded his right shoulder to relive a knotty muscle there. The pain receded, and Balto jumped up onto his favorite crate at the front of the boat. It had been there forever and preserved every mark Balto had left with his claws since he stood just half as tall as it.
From his vantage point Balto could see almost every house in Nome. They all stood dark faced with lighthearted insides where the people and the warmth was, where conversations about life and death and politics happened at the drop of a hat. At times the homes, under the guiding light of cross atop the church, beheld a certain warmth and loving; like a family you loved to love. But that was not the case today. Even today the homes looked dreary and miserable under the grey hue of the day. Balto closed his eyes and began to turn away when he noticed a flicker of life among their stern cold faces.
It was Jenna, moving briskly out away from town, her paws treading lightly through the snow that had blown across the path Balto used to get to town and back. From the way Jenna walked, Balto could tell that she had something very important to say. She never walked in a hunched over wolfish manner unless something pressed uncontrollably on her mind, and she needed someone to vent on and get her emotions straight so she could go out and try again.
Balto sighed and let his body sink down onto the crate. He folded his paws on one another on the edge of the railing and let his jaw rest on them. No sense standing around for Jenna, might as well catch some rest, thought Balto as his eyes closed around the distant speak that came for him.
|
