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![Escape from The Mine [+story]](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/p-sebae/1484274506/1484274506.p-sebae_mineychv1.png "Click to change the View")
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crytrauv and Mersheeple (Tumblr), whom I need to respond to privately as well, but I'm exhausted right now, so I just hope this is okay ^^
The tunnel was narrow and dark, the stone walls were murky brown and muddy water leached through to smear on their fur. Jak lead the way, his peach fuzz coated bat wings held tight and close around his back and sides. Despite this his wrists and elbows were bruised from knocks. The young wolf’s ears were twitching around, picking up on every drip, every creak of the earth, his flaring nostrils lead him along the tunnel, following the distant smell of leaf litter and fresh air.
Behind him was Crytrauv, the fox. With his white fur a mess in the dirty old tunnel. Crytrauv had been leading the way until about an hour back, when he’d switched with Jak. He was lagging slightly, exhausted from straining his senses endlessly in the darkness. He had one paw hanging onto the leather tassels of Jak’s kilt so he didn’t loose him, but was dozing as he walked.
They had met only recently, in the cells of the stone walled citadel above them. They’d been strangers when Jak had been thrown into Crytrauv’s cell. The young wolf had been a fresh catch, full of vim and vinegar and snapping and thrashing in his captors’ arms before being tossed to the stone floor, the iron door slammed shut and locked behind him. Crytrauv had been the one to discover the way out. His previous cell mate had complained endlessly of a draught in the evenings. That had in fact been the only reason they’d known it was the evenings. When the old dog had been taken away Crytrauv hadn’t slept that night, every breath of stale air, now no longer blocked by his companion’s body, had reminded him that at any moment now his end too would come.
Then it had slowly dawned on his freedom-starved brain… If there was a draught… There was a hole.
The fox had crawled over in the weak light from the burning torches outside and sniffed around the cell on his hands and knees, and lo and behold, under the unwashed stench of the old dog who’d previously slept in that corner, he discovered it. A tiny crack in the mortar, where the solid stone walls merged with stonework so old and grimy it almost looked like the solid stone. Almost. His old companion hadn’t been able to see the difference, Crytrauv had given him what tiny amount of space he could in the small cell. Neither of them had seen where, at some time, a flaw in the cave system had been bolstered with a wall.
The fox had dug and scraped until his claws ached and his paws bled, day after day he picked at the hard mortar, first with his claws then with a piece of stone that came loose, and bit by bit the draught increased, the number of loose stones he had to wedge back into place grew in number and the dark ominous void, his chance at freedom, grew in size.
Then Jak had been tossed in on top of him and he’d had a fresh pair of hands to help. They’d finally broken through one night, after the guards had gone past to see if the inmates were all quiet, asleep or rowdy and troublesome. They’d considered putting the stones back behind them, but the delay it caused the guards wouldn’t be worth the time wasted making the effort, so they’d run, blindly, into the dark tunnel.
They’d travelled downhill for a long while, and Jak’s finer internal navigation skills told them they were slowly turning in a spiralling fashion too. Then Crytrauv had realised they were at a fork in the path. Since then there’d been many, but the two canines had trusted in their sensitive noses to lead them true. They couldn’t see, but their questing paws had revealed that the cramped tunnel they’d first escaped into had been of smooth water caved stone, and that had given away some time ago to rough hewn rock. Occasionally they stubbed their toes on wood, or something that went clanging into the darkness. They’d found their way into some kind of mine, or if not, at least something canine-built. This was good news, the dry underground stream bed might have narrowed to nothing, or reached a deep cold subterranean body of water they couldn’t traverse, but a tunnel built by the hands of people? That meant there was a way out, and they were still going downhill, away from the citadel.
Splash! Jak stumbled backwards in to Crytrauv, who shook himself and looked around in bemusement, nose twitching excitedly.
“What is it? Can we keep going?”
In the darkness Jak shrugged then said: “I don’t know. It’s cold, but I can hear running water ahead...” They pushed on, the cold water slowly reaching up towards their ankles. Their paws slipping on the silt under the water. Sure enough they turned a corner, groping their way around the bend, and emerged into a larger cavern. Pressure seemed to lift from their shoulders as the walls opened out, the air seemed lighter in their lungs. Above them a tiny narrow band of light signalled a crack in the roof, somewhere out there the moon was high over the mountainous terrain. Jak fluttered up there, scrabbling at the roof and clinging to the ceiling, but the roof of the cave was fairly solid. Weather had opened the crack, but not enough for erstwhile escapees. He came back down and he and Crytrauv found each other awkwardly, discovered a dry patch near the centre of the room and climbed up, curled up and passed out.
They were woken by a narrow streak of light crawling over them. The rising sun. The two men sat on their haunches and basked in it. Revelling that they were still alive, there was a warm early summer sun out there waiting for them. No one had found them in the night. By the beam of light and glittering motes they discovered the water in the cave was trickling in from the rock walls, some kind of spring perhaps. They cleaned off the mud in the fresh water and drank deep, neither of them aware until then just how thirsty they were. Not just thirsty, but desperately thirsty for something other than the musty stale water from the cells. They lapped up the cold clear water sloppily, not caring if they splashed it all over their happy faces.
By the time came to leave the cave, they were both sorry to see it left behind them. Neither of them had any way to carry water, and had no idea when they’d find anything this clean again. Neither of them wanted to leave the hypnotic streak of sunlight behind either, but eventually they dragged each other away from the light and they plunged back into the tunnels.
Jak suddenly yelped in excitement and wiggled like a puppy before bounding forwards. Crytrauv went to call him back before they got separated, before realising that he could just about see the young wolf in a dim ambient light. He grinned and stumbled quickly after him. Before long fresh air, not just whiffs and breaths, but real permeating fresh air, thick with the scents of the forest and wilderness surrounded them. Crytrauv squeezed out of the last narrow section of tunnel and looked out from atop a pile of stones and slabs of rock. Jak was standing in front of him, large ears flicking this way and that, nose snuffling happily, face turned towards the brilliant sunlight streaming down over them. They were not technically out of the mine, but the roof had been washed away here. They could get out. They were free.
crytrauv and Mersheeple (Tumblr), whom I need to respond to privately as well, but I'm exhausted right now, so I just hope this is okay ^^The tunnel was narrow and dark, the stone walls were murky brown and muddy water leached through to smear on their fur. Jak lead the way, his peach fuzz coated bat wings held tight and close around his back and sides. Despite this his wrists and elbows were bruised from knocks. The young wolf’s ears were twitching around, picking up on every drip, every creak of the earth, his flaring nostrils lead him along the tunnel, following the distant smell of leaf litter and fresh air.
Behind him was Crytrauv, the fox. With his white fur a mess in the dirty old tunnel. Crytrauv had been leading the way until about an hour back, when he’d switched with Jak. He was lagging slightly, exhausted from straining his senses endlessly in the darkness. He had one paw hanging onto the leather tassels of Jak’s kilt so he didn’t loose him, but was dozing as he walked.
They had met only recently, in the cells of the stone walled citadel above them. They’d been strangers when Jak had been thrown into Crytrauv’s cell. The young wolf had been a fresh catch, full of vim and vinegar and snapping and thrashing in his captors’ arms before being tossed to the stone floor, the iron door slammed shut and locked behind him. Crytrauv had been the one to discover the way out. His previous cell mate had complained endlessly of a draught in the evenings. That had in fact been the only reason they’d known it was the evenings. When the old dog had been taken away Crytrauv hadn’t slept that night, every breath of stale air, now no longer blocked by his companion’s body, had reminded him that at any moment now his end too would come.
Then it had slowly dawned on his freedom-starved brain… If there was a draught… There was a hole.
The fox had crawled over in the weak light from the burning torches outside and sniffed around the cell on his hands and knees, and lo and behold, under the unwashed stench of the old dog who’d previously slept in that corner, he discovered it. A tiny crack in the mortar, where the solid stone walls merged with stonework so old and grimy it almost looked like the solid stone. Almost. His old companion hadn’t been able to see the difference, Crytrauv had given him what tiny amount of space he could in the small cell. Neither of them had seen where, at some time, a flaw in the cave system had been bolstered with a wall.
The fox had dug and scraped until his claws ached and his paws bled, day after day he picked at the hard mortar, first with his claws then with a piece of stone that came loose, and bit by bit the draught increased, the number of loose stones he had to wedge back into place grew in number and the dark ominous void, his chance at freedom, grew in size.
Then Jak had been tossed in on top of him and he’d had a fresh pair of hands to help. They’d finally broken through one night, after the guards had gone past to see if the inmates were all quiet, asleep or rowdy and troublesome. They’d considered putting the stones back behind them, but the delay it caused the guards wouldn’t be worth the time wasted making the effort, so they’d run, blindly, into the dark tunnel.
They’d travelled downhill for a long while, and Jak’s finer internal navigation skills told them they were slowly turning in a spiralling fashion too. Then Crytrauv had realised they were at a fork in the path. Since then there’d been many, but the two canines had trusted in their sensitive noses to lead them true. They couldn’t see, but their questing paws had revealed that the cramped tunnel they’d first escaped into had been of smooth water caved stone, and that had given away some time ago to rough hewn rock. Occasionally they stubbed their toes on wood, or something that went clanging into the darkness. They’d found their way into some kind of mine, or if not, at least something canine-built. This was good news, the dry underground stream bed might have narrowed to nothing, or reached a deep cold subterranean body of water they couldn’t traverse, but a tunnel built by the hands of people? That meant there was a way out, and they were still going downhill, away from the citadel.
Splash! Jak stumbled backwards in to Crytrauv, who shook himself and looked around in bemusement, nose twitching excitedly.
“What is it? Can we keep going?”
In the darkness Jak shrugged then said: “I don’t know. It’s cold, but I can hear running water ahead...” They pushed on, the cold water slowly reaching up towards their ankles. Their paws slipping on the silt under the water. Sure enough they turned a corner, groping their way around the bend, and emerged into a larger cavern. Pressure seemed to lift from their shoulders as the walls opened out, the air seemed lighter in their lungs. Above them a tiny narrow band of light signalled a crack in the roof, somewhere out there the moon was high over the mountainous terrain. Jak fluttered up there, scrabbling at the roof and clinging to the ceiling, but the roof of the cave was fairly solid. Weather had opened the crack, but not enough for erstwhile escapees. He came back down and he and Crytrauv found each other awkwardly, discovered a dry patch near the centre of the room and climbed up, curled up and passed out.
They were woken by a narrow streak of light crawling over them. The rising sun. The two men sat on their haunches and basked in it. Revelling that they were still alive, there was a warm early summer sun out there waiting for them. No one had found them in the night. By the beam of light and glittering motes they discovered the water in the cave was trickling in from the rock walls, some kind of spring perhaps. They cleaned off the mud in the fresh water and drank deep, neither of them aware until then just how thirsty they were. Not just thirsty, but desperately thirsty for something other than the musty stale water from the cells. They lapped up the cold clear water sloppily, not caring if they splashed it all over their happy faces.
By the time came to leave the cave, they were both sorry to see it left behind them. Neither of them had any way to carry water, and had no idea when they’d find anything this clean again. Neither of them wanted to leave the hypnotic streak of sunlight behind either, but eventually they dragged each other away from the light and they plunged back into the tunnels.
Jak suddenly yelped in excitement and wiggled like a puppy before bounding forwards. Crytrauv went to call him back before they got separated, before realising that he could just about see the young wolf in a dim ambient light. He grinned and stumbled quickly after him. Before long fresh air, not just whiffs and breaths, but real permeating fresh air, thick with the scents of the forest and wilderness surrounded them. Crytrauv squeezed out of the last narrow section of tunnel and looked out from atop a pile of stones and slabs of rock. Jak was standing in front of him, large ears flicking this way and that, nose snuffling happily, face turned towards the brilliant sunlight streaming down over them. They were not technically out of the mine, but the roof had been washed away here. They could get out. They were free.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Canine (Other)
Size 650 x 920px
File Size 906.9 kB
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