Attack of the Rabbogs (Open Thread)
Jan 11, 2012 19:27:17 GMT -5
Post by Terrowin Guthrie on Jan 11, 2012 19:27:17 GMT -5
The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon as Terrowin made his way onto the front lawn of the Hammel Institute, walking at a slow pace as the crisp leaves crunched under his feet. The air was still chilly, since the sun hadn't had the chance to warm the air yet, and the man shivered under his layers of shirts and jackets. Even though he had lived in Vermont for more than half of his life, he had never grown used to the freezing temperatures there. He had grown up in the baking heat of southern Australia, and sometimes missed the cloudless blue skies and endless deserts.
But nevertheless, it didn't stop him from planning an early morning trip into the nearby woods to indulge in his love for birds. He had spoken with a few other people he thought would be interested, telling them to meet him in the front yard around 7 AM. He had hardly bothered to brush out his hair, and so it stuck out in the imitation of a bird's nest as he unconsciously brushed a gloved hand through it. His scruff, as usual, was thick as well.
"Chloe better not be wearin' a skirt an' high heels," he muttered to himself absent-mindedly. Knowing her, even his plead for her to wear something warm and practical wouldn't keep her from dressing as usual. He wasn't sure who else was coming, but she at least would be fun and easy to be around. Even if he might have to keep her from tripping around tree roots numerous times... Ah well. She was sweet and could talk to birds, so that was all that mattered.
He squinted as he leaned back and stared at the cold azure sky, beginning to grow impatient. His foot tapped against the ground, but he knew his impatience was unnecessary. He hadn't been waiting that long, and it was only his normal high-speed life that made him so bad at waiting.