Whispers on the Wind Part 1
Whispers on the wind fall on a lonely Hellhounds ears.
The wind howls outside in the night, keeping the Hellhound from a peaceful night's sleep. He lays in the dark a little while longer, eyes closed, just lazily listening to the wind. His ears twitch and his glowing amethyst eyes open when he hears a whisper on the wind. He can't pinpoint it, but can feel the whisper and it intrigues him. With a light sigh he lifts his body from the bed and stumbles to his bedroom door. He stops for a moment and turns to look out the window, ears targeting the whisper on the wind. The bedroom door creeks open and the Hellhound steps out into the dark hallway. He looks down the long hallway and his ears and shoulders droop a bit. He starts a slow saunter, paw claws gently clicking on the floor, echoing down the hallway. A muscular arm lazily stretches out and claws drag along the wallpaper as he continues on. He stops for a moment in front of a bedroom door. He squints his eyes with an anguished snarl, claws rake down the wooden door. Small curls of wood scrape off and fall to the floor. Sauntering on he passes the kitchen. He tilts his head up and to the side, nostrils flaring to capture any aromas. But alas, there are no longer any delicious perfumes of homemade delicacies gracing this kitchen. His head lowers and he turns to make his way into the living room. Again he stops to reminisce of the sounds of laughter and clicking game controllers. Now the living room lays silent and dead. Shaking his head of memories of better times, he continues his way outside. As soon as the door opens he is accosted by a blustery breeze. A chill runs through him as the brisk night wind rustles his fur. Stepping outside he is greeted by the full force of the autumn night. Trees rustle in their last breathes of life for the year. Leaves circle and dance across the grass. For a moment the winds whisper draws his attention towards the driveway, feint sounds of mechanical work linger in the breeze. But there is nothing there, just leaves enjoying their starlight dance. No longer are there street racing cars adorning the driveway, just empty, black asphalt. His head droops again and he turns away. Lifting his head up slightly he finishes his journey to stand in the yard, taking a moment to just absorb the sounds and smells of the windy night. He kneels and lays down on the grass, the cold dew soaking into his fur. Eyes gaze lazily out onto balls of gas burning billions of miles away. He waits, ears twitching intently for the whisper again, but the whisper never comes. He closes his eyes as a single firey tear runs down and falls onto the damp grass. The wind continues to blow cold and brisk, leaves rolling over his body as it lays sprawled out on the lawn.