Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Mar 27, 2013 5:09:46 GMT -8
tagged: Jaxon time: April 30th, 2012. 7PM. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -.
So maybe Los Angeles had some nice places after all. He certainly couldn’t tell from his time in the city, but wander a little ways out and he stumbled upon crisscrossing paths and old train tracks. Further still, maybe a day’s hike out, and there were the mountains.
Oskenón:ton sighed deeply, taking in the fresh air that seemed only faintly tainted of city pollution as he hiked up the trail, pausing every once in a while to either take in his surroundings, or react to some far-off noise he heard. Mountains weren’t exactly something too familiar to him. He’d lived on the coast, not in some of the rockier areas, though his father had fondly recalled the Rockies and a few other places in his stories. Hiking, especially up slopes, was generally a test of endurance, and he took that as a small challenge to himself.
Though it was often advised that a person shouldn’t hike alone, he did so anyway. Who the hell was he supposed to bring with him? He didn’t know anybody in the area, and fond friends didn’t just develop overnight. Sure, he made pleasant small talk with the teenaged girl that worked at the front desk of his hostel, and occasionally he’d see the same cashier or the like at a store he’d go to twice, but it was nobody that he could ask to go hiking with. Walking in such an isolated area was a fairly personal experience anyways, he thought.
He’d been out on the mountain for a couple hours already, and the sun was slowly going down. It was that caught-between time where some animals bedded down for the night and others decided to come alive. For the time being, Oskenón:ton decided to take a small rest, sitting down on a nearby boulder that came up to about his knee and putting his pack down in the dirt. There were things out there, from small rodents to birds, and the deer were always a welcome presence if they were around.
But there was something else, too. The step of a mountain lion or a bear was different than the step of a human; whether they knew it or not, people had a very distinct footfall. Oskenón:ton turned to glance over his shoulder slightly, curious as to who it might’ve been.
Oskenón:ton sighed deeply, taking in the fresh air that seemed only faintly tainted of city pollution as he hiked up the trail, pausing every once in a while to either take in his surroundings, or react to some far-off noise he heard. Mountains weren’t exactly something too familiar to him. He’d lived on the coast, not in some of the rockier areas, though his father had fondly recalled the Rockies and a few other places in his stories. Hiking, especially up slopes, was generally a test of endurance, and he took that as a small challenge to himself.
Though it was often advised that a person shouldn’t hike alone, he did so anyway. Who the hell was he supposed to bring with him? He didn’t know anybody in the area, and fond friends didn’t just develop overnight. Sure, he made pleasant small talk with the teenaged girl that worked at the front desk of his hostel, and occasionally he’d see the same cashier or the like at a store he’d go to twice, but it was nobody that he could ask to go hiking with. Walking in such an isolated area was a fairly personal experience anyways, he thought.
He’d been out on the mountain for a couple hours already, and the sun was slowly going down. It was that caught-between time where some animals bedded down for the night and others decided to come alive. For the time being, Oskenón:ton decided to take a small rest, sitting down on a nearby boulder that came up to about his knee and putting his pack down in the dirt. There were things out there, from small rodents to birds, and the deer were always a welcome presence if they were around.
But there was something else, too. The step of a mountain lion or a bear was different than the step of a human; whether they knew it or not, people had a very distinct footfall. Oskenón:ton turned to glance over his shoulder slightly, curious as to who it might’ve been.
