He couldn't help but that his feet caught on many of the roots of any of the thousands of trees in the wood through which his path traced. It was difficult for him to focus on both the pain throbbing in his shoulder and also on his own footsteps. The wind had swelled up of a sudden, again, and the gaze of his eyes shot upward into the overhanging boughs as they shuddered in the gusts. #Gaige knew it unlikely that a second branch would crack and tumble, that a second shard of wood would pierce through his bare skin, stab and nearly kill him as he ran, now walked, through his favourite trails. Yet unlikely was not impossible. His foot caught on another tree root and he stumbled again, letting loose the grip he held on his bleeding bicep. Maybe he would reevaluate his love of these trails. Maybe. He paused in his march back towards civilization to check the gash on his arm and to adjust his grip once more over the worst of the wound. Nature was not malicious nor evil, it just was, but today it had taken a shot at Gaige and he wouldn't soon forget it. He kicked at a particularly gnarled root stretching across the path, and walked on.
[ 218 words | 2022-11-28 ]
Daily story prompt for 21st of February 2024:
Write a suspense story about a hero that is waiting for an underwater door.