Post by Child of the Does on Apr 8, 2015 1:51:44 GMT
Theme Song
End paced his room. It was after curfew, and he was bored out of his mind. Almost literally. He’d been pacing for the better part of three hours. The door was locked from the outside, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how many times he tried it. The window, on the other hand… He wasn’t on the lower floor, but he did know how to climb. He pushed open the window and looked out into the poorly lit area. He was off the back of the building, it appeared. With quick fingers, End worked the screen out and laid it quietly across his bed. He had far too much experience, a fact he acknowledged with a small grin. Leaning out the window, he could see very little as far as handholds. The bricks did have just enough weathering that his fingers fit snugly in the cracks. He swung his legs over the sill and sat there for a moment. A moment later, he shoved his fingers between the bricks and pitched violently off the ledge.
After a painful moment of hanging in the open air, he realised he had no further plans on how to get down. There was nothing particularly obvious to climb down, other than the bricks. He didn’t dare look to the ground, instead opting to slowly shift his weight to his left hand.
Keeping a death grip on the brick, End moved his right hand down until he managed to find another groove thick enough that he could fit his fingers. This was a terrible idea. Horrendous, even. He clenched his jaw and braced his bare feet against the wall, still clinging as tightly as possible. Then his left hand released, and he immediately jammed his fingers into the groove beside his right hand. The wall bit into his feet as he slowly proceeded downward. Suddenly, there was nothing where his left foot was meant to go. His right foot scraped down the side with his surprise, cutting it open. He hissed a soft curse and glanced down.
To his shock, he was only a few feet above the ground. A few drops of blood dripped to the dirt below. His foot stung as he dropped. A few limping steps, and he was at the edge of the building. Even if he wasn’t running, he felt a bit odd. If anybody caught him, that’s no doubt what they would be thinking. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to Juno’s pen. The mare was half asleep in the back, which was good for him. He sat down and scooped a handful of water from the trough. It hit his foot, and another curse slipped out, this one louder than he wished it to be. Juno’s head jerked straight up, and she charged the fence. Realising he was outside, the mare began to dart back and forth along the front edge of the pen, tossing her head wildly.
End slid back, making sure his foot was clean before unrolling the cuff of his pajama leg. He ripped a bit off each end, cringing slightly at every sound he made. He rolled the large pant legs back up. The ripped fabric he used to wrap his foot, not caring to get more dirt and sand in the still bleeding cuts. Juno had stopped. She stood with her muzzle resting on the top bar of the gate, glaring down at him. “Sorry girl,” End murmured. He wasn’t sure what to do now that he was out of the room. So he sat there, watching the irate mare as she watched him. After a long staring match, End gave in. He carefully lowered himself to his back, tucking his arms under his head. The stars overhead glinted brilliantly in the relative darkness.