Lion of Junior Member
Played by Flea
Only the delicious, coppery scent of freshly drawn blood could draw Reznor deep into the tundra. He was not a particularly curious individual nor did he ever find himself feeling restless with incurable wanderlust, and so he had very little motivation to drive himself through the snow in the name of adventure. He could not be bribed or otherwise swayed by the idea of fame and fortune. The vagabond craved warm blood pooling in his mouth, washing shredded meat down his throat— not discovery. Reznor simply wanted food. .. and possibly a nap.
However, in the howling wind that peppered him with a slurry of frozen rain and snow, the opportunity quickly slipped away. The scent he’d chased across the snowscape faded from the frigid air, and the once promising trail he’d followed soon vanished before his very eyes as the elements swirled around him in an icy fury, covering the tracks of his prey — and his own as well. Now he was more than hungry: he was lost too.
The sky was heavily shrouded by the early evening snowstorm, so there was no way for him to guess where he was going, what direction he was moving in. He simply followed his nose and pushed onward, slowly plodding through the snow that even he considered deep. He sank down to his striped wrists with every step, which were becoming heavy and sluggish the further he ventured. Reznor had no idea what was ahead of him — likely only more snow. He knew for certain though that there was nothing behind him worth turning around for, so he pressed forward.
He moved with his head down and braced against the storm, and because of it, he nearly missed the shadowy silhouettes rising from the icy gloom: trees. For as hungry as he was, Reznor was in no way starving. He could survive the evening without food. He would not, however, make it through the night out in the open — he needed shelter. And shelter he had found. A heavy, relieved puff rushed from his open and panting mouth as he disappeared into the thicket, to search out a quiet place where he could hunker down and weather the storm.
However, in the howling wind that peppered him with a slurry of frozen rain and snow, the opportunity quickly slipped away. The scent he’d chased across the snowscape faded from the frigid air, and the once promising trail he’d followed soon vanished before his very eyes as the elements swirled around him in an icy fury, covering the tracks of his prey — and his own as well. Now he was more than hungry: he was lost too.
The sky was heavily shrouded by the early evening snowstorm, so there was no way for him to guess where he was going, what direction he was moving in. He simply followed his nose and pushed onward, slowly plodding through the snow that even he considered deep. He sank down to his striped wrists with every step, which were becoming heavy and sluggish the further he ventured. Reznor had no idea what was ahead of him — likely only more snow. He knew for certain though that there was nothing behind him worth turning around for, so he pressed forward.
He moved with his head down and braced against the storm, and because of it, he nearly missed the shadowy silhouettes rising from the icy gloom: trees. For as hungry as he was, Reznor was in no way starving. He could survive the evening without food. He would not, however, make it through the night out in the open — he needed shelter. And shelter he had found. A heavy, relieved puff rushed from his open and panting mouth as he disappeared into the thicket, to search out a quiet place where he could hunker down and weather the storm.
