05-10-2016, 04:37 PM
The girl’s cave was situated near several essentials for survival: First, she was close by to a town for supplies. “The Town with No Name,” is what it was called. A green terrorist with a gun had blown up a large group of men, women and children as well as the side of a building. The town was still suffering from the attack.
Second, the cave was conveniently close to a swamp. The swamp was musty, fog hanging below the small, low hanging trees. Insects of various shapes and sizes buzzed around, some trying to stick to Frisk’s cheek. The ground itself was filled with mud and water, dirtying the girl’s already mud-caked and mistreated shoes as she walked through the marsh. Her face felt damp, with a copious amount of grime and sweat plastered all over her face and hair, which didn’t spell too well for some of the open cuts on her face. She looked around, growing increasingly worried that she might’ve gotten lost among the tall grass and blood-sucking insects.
Eventually, as she parted away some tall cattail, she found the lake. It had been her lifeline just as much as the village had, and she had been incredibly thankful for her lucky choice of the cave when she first came across it. The lake was surrounded by a long patch of cattail, and it always had a layer of thick fog above it that made its overall size deceptive. She always swore, though, that somewhere in the middle of that lake was a small island, free from the heat and yuckiness of the swampland, where a tall forest stood. This forest, she had always thought, was composed of palm trees and not the weeping willows of the bog, and would have probably made a lot better a home than the cave.
She sighed, walking towards the edge of the lake, her shoes sinking into the muddied ground. She knew it probably was just her eyes playing tricks on her, even though it was fun to dream about an island like that. Maybe she would make a raft one day and go out into the lake, just to see if it was true. Maybe she would bring her friends over there too… share jokes…
Her tummy grumbled, interrupting her daydream. She groaned, letting out a disgusted “Yuck…” as she dipped the bucket into the standing water. After a few seconds, she brought the bucket out, the weight forcing her to use her two hands.
There, she thought, that should be enough. Time to head home.
She was about to turn around when she heard a low rumble erupt from the water.
She peered into the foggy abyss, her grip on her bucket tightening and her arms shaking. The rumble drew closer, turning into a loud roar. It seemed to be coming from her left, as if stalking her. She saw the lake water start to shake, the green algae on top parting. The roar became louder and louder still.
She did not wait to see what it was. She leaped back into the cattail bushes, spilling the water in her bucket all over her clothes. She started to reach for her knife within her shorts, a sense of dread filling the pit of her stomach as the ear-splitting rumbling increased.
Then it stopped.
Trembling, she started to stand up. With a shaky hand, she parted the cattail bush, looking out towards the lake.
>> Old Man Mister Habernathy: Fish some fish out of the swamp lake. Oh, and court the lovely missus while you're at it.
Second, the cave was conveniently close to a swamp. The swamp was musty, fog hanging below the small, low hanging trees. Insects of various shapes and sizes buzzed around, some trying to stick to Frisk’s cheek. The ground itself was filled with mud and water, dirtying the girl’s already mud-caked and mistreated shoes as she walked through the marsh. Her face felt damp, with a copious amount of grime and sweat plastered all over her face and hair, which didn’t spell too well for some of the open cuts on her face. She looked around, growing increasingly worried that she might’ve gotten lost among the tall grass and blood-sucking insects.
Eventually, as she parted away some tall cattail, she found the lake. It had been her lifeline just as much as the village had, and she had been incredibly thankful for her lucky choice of the cave when she first came across it. The lake was surrounded by a long patch of cattail, and it always had a layer of thick fog above it that made its overall size deceptive. She always swore, though, that somewhere in the middle of that lake was a small island, free from the heat and yuckiness of the swampland, where a tall forest stood. This forest, she had always thought, was composed of palm trees and not the weeping willows of the bog, and would have probably made a lot better a home than the cave.
She sighed, walking towards the edge of the lake, her shoes sinking into the muddied ground. She knew it probably was just her eyes playing tricks on her, even though it was fun to dream about an island like that. Maybe she would make a raft one day and go out into the lake, just to see if it was true. Maybe she would bring her friends over there too… share jokes…
Her tummy grumbled, interrupting her daydream. She groaned, letting out a disgusted “Yuck…” as she dipped the bucket into the standing water. After a few seconds, she brought the bucket out, the weight forcing her to use her two hands.
There, she thought, that should be enough. Time to head home.
She was about to turn around when she heard a low rumble erupt from the water.
She peered into the foggy abyss, her grip on her bucket tightening and her arms shaking. The rumble drew closer, turning into a loud roar. It seemed to be coming from her left, as if stalking her. She saw the lake water start to shake, the green algae on top parting. The roar became louder and louder still.
She did not wait to see what it was. She leaped back into the cattail bushes, spilling the water in her bucket all over her clothes. She started to reach for her knife within her shorts, a sense of dread filling the pit of her stomach as the ear-splitting rumbling increased.
Then it stopped.
Trembling, she started to stand up. With a shaky hand, she parted the cattail bush, looking out towards the lake.
>> Old Man Mister Habernathy: Fish some fish out of the swamp lake. Oh, and court the lovely missus while you're at it.