Cureth - Lies with Vultures

	Lies with Vultures
	The sun beat down mercilessly on the canvas above her. Dry leaves rustled as a fierce wind whipped them into a frenzy of voices. The grating shriek of nails on a tutor�s writing board and the murmuring of those leaves urged her to get up. Walk. Go West. "Which way is west?" She heard her own voice as an echo, whispering unbidden to the air. Follow the wind. The lazy heat of the midday desert sapped the small motivation that the rustling leaves had instilled. Cureth rolled to her back, shifting closer to where her parents had lain and drifting farther from the thread of life that held her. Razors etched their way into her sensitive skin. Her arm was on fire as the flesh was torn off in small strips, then the naked muscle dressed with wind-whipped desert sands. Pain and rage welled up quicker than her groggy senses could discern her surroundings. A cold hatred washed over her arm, numbing it to the bone and shooting her senses to reality. Sand-crusted eyes peeled open to stare at the blurred body of a vulture, claws still sunk deep within her oozing arm. The numbness faded quickly from her arm. Too quickly, as she croaked out in pain and the bird was momentarily forgotten. Slowly sitting up, she wrenched the talons from her skin with another yelp of pain and dropped the cold body onto the blistering desert sands. There was nothing in sight. Dunes stretched for miles ahead and behind. Dehydrated, hungry, and still oddly cold in her arm, Cureth staggered away from the winds. Barely aware of her movements until she was choking on sand again, she didn�t know how far she had walked or even if she had been walking. Struggling to stand back up brought a hazy grey to her eyes. She was dimly aware of voices calling to her as she slipped once more into peaceful rest.

Lies with Vultures

The sun beat down mercilessly on the canvas above her. Dry leaves rustled as a fierce wind whipped them into a frenzy of voices. The grating shriek of nails on a tutor�s writing board and the murmuring of those leaves urged her to get up.

Walk. Go West.

"Which way is west?" She heard her own voice as an echo, whispering unbidden to the air.

Follow the wind.

The lazy heat of the midday desert sapped the small motivation that the rustling leaves had instilled. Cureth rolled to her back, shifting closer to where her parents had lain and drifting farther from the thread of life that held her.

Razors etched their way into her sensitive skin. Her arm was on fire as the flesh was torn off in small strips, then the naked muscle dressed with wind-whipped desert sands. Pain and rage welled up quicker than her groggy senses could discern her surroundings. A cold hatred washed over her arm, numbing it to the bone and shooting her senses to reality. Sand-crusted eyes peeled open to stare at the blurred body of a vulture, claws still sunk deep within her oozing arm. The numbness faded quickly from her arm. Too quickly, as she croaked out in pain and the bird was momentarily forgotten.

Slowly sitting up, she wrenched the talons from her skin with another yelp of pain and dropped the cold body onto the blistering desert sands. There was nothing in sight. Dunes stretched for miles ahead and behind. Dehydrated, hungry, and still oddly cold in her arm, Cureth staggered away from the winds. Barely aware of her movements until she was choking on sand again, she didn�t know how far she had walked or even if she had been walking. Struggling to stand back up brought a hazy grey to her eyes. She was dimly aware of voices calling to her as she slipped once more into peaceful rest.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws