Oh dear...what in the world was I thinking? This thought had been running with alarming regularity through Cuthbert Rumbold's head as soon as the geriatric magician had hobbled into the mist-shrouded Lycan Woods. The damp was playing havoc with his arthritis, the mud had long ago soaked into his boots, and sooner or later some hulking beast out of his nightmares was going to sneak up behind him and tear his head off.
Cuthbert paused in his incessant slogging, shivering as he pulled a worn handkerchief from the depths of his robes and blew his nose. The loud honking sound that resulted echoed through the stillness of the forest, making him jump and glance around him to make sure that he had not alerted anything large and bloodthirsty to his presence. When he had assured himself that his messy demise was not imminent, the mage sighed and stared balefully up at the moon peaking through the trees. The pale orb was close to full. He guessed that he had perhaps two or three nights before time was up and the monsters he was searching for would emerge from the Lycan Woods and attack once again.
This thought made the old man's stomach sink and he shook his grizzled head. "Oh dear...what was I thinking?" He whispered the thought aloud this time as he tucked away his handkerchief. What he had been thinking, in the beginning at least, that this job was preferable to returning home at the moment. His eldest sister and his youngest sister were currently staying at his home, and quite frankly, dealing with a pack of murderous wolf-men intent on stripping his flesh from his bones sounded a lot more pleasant than dealing with those two. While this was still indeed the case, now that he was out here alone in the dark with unseen horrors stalking him, Cuthbert was thinking that perhaps he could have found a safer means of avoiding the two dragons that had taken over his abode.
Oh well...too late now...
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Cuthbert marched further into the woods, searching for something he really didn't want to find.
Word Count: 360
Cuthbert paused in his incessant slogging, shivering as he pulled a worn handkerchief from the depths of his robes and blew his nose. The loud honking sound that resulted echoed through the stillness of the forest, making him jump and glance around him to make sure that he had not alerted anything large and bloodthirsty to his presence. When he had assured himself that his messy demise was not imminent, the mage sighed and stared balefully up at the moon peaking through the trees. The pale orb was close to full. He guessed that he had perhaps two or three nights before time was up and the monsters he was searching for would emerge from the Lycan Woods and attack once again.
This thought made the old man's stomach sink and he shook his grizzled head. "Oh dear...what was I thinking?" He whispered the thought aloud this time as he tucked away his handkerchief. What he had been thinking, in the beginning at least, that this job was preferable to returning home at the moment. His eldest sister and his youngest sister were currently staying at his home, and quite frankly, dealing with a pack of murderous wolf-men intent on stripping his flesh from his bones sounded a lot more pleasant than dealing with those two. While this was still indeed the case, now that he was out here alone in the dark with unseen horrors stalking him, Cuthbert was thinking that perhaps he could have found a safer means of avoiding the two dragons that had taken over his abode.
Oh well...too late now...
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Cuthbert marched further into the woods, searching for something he really didn't want to find.
Word Count: 360