08-24-2007, 01:27 AM
Uub was hunched over, his hands press right above his bony knee caps. Each vertebrate of his spin jutted out through his thin dirty shirt. He took labored raspy breaths and with a quick fleeting look over a bleeding shoulder he sat down. He carefully maneuvered to the ground without putting in pressure on his wounded shoulder. With his good arm, Uub slipped off his dirty ratty shirt that had adorned him for what felt like months straight and wrapped it tightly over his equally filthy skin. He pulled chunks of mud from his black mohawk. The thought of cleanliness was a distant as the star in the sky. Ubb, shirtless, felt the harsh bite of cold air. It was a windy night with only a sliver of the moon. In the darkness of a forest Ubb looked at the sky with two round pleading eyes. How he longed for warmth and shelter, but most of all food. His stomach grumbled at the thought.
"Don't think of food," Ubb commanded himself, but his mind did not obey. At the thought of chicken tikka masala, hot, right of the oven naan, the small indian boy's stomach growled again this time more vigorously. Then the sounds of footsteps of fresh crisp fallen leaves crackled through the air. Fear of being caught reminded Ubb why was he was here, why he was bleeding, and what he had to do. He hurriedly jumped to his feet and cupped his gnarly abnormally large hands together despite the pain he suffered from moving his arm. His palms near his side he bent low and peered toward where the sound came from.
Two dark silhouettes walked in unison each holding a menacing rifles. Although their faces were masked by darkness, Uub knew who they were. He was in no shape to fight their ki guns for the second time that day. He need rest desperately. He instinctively mutter, "Solar Flare." And a blinding light materialized and bathed forest in a golden hue. And with a flickering silver aura Uub burst into the sky. He kept scanning the sky for his pursuers, expecting a sudden attack. Nobody came and Uub was safe, or so he thought.
"Don't think of food," Ubb commanded himself, but his mind did not obey. At the thought of chicken tikka masala, hot, right of the oven naan, the small indian boy's stomach growled again this time more vigorously. Then the sounds of footsteps of fresh crisp fallen leaves crackled through the air. Fear of being caught reminded Ubb why was he was here, why he was bleeding, and what he had to do. He hurriedly jumped to his feet and cupped his gnarly abnormally large hands together despite the pain he suffered from moving his arm. His palms near his side he bent low and peered toward where the sound came from.
Two dark silhouettes walked in unison each holding a menacing rifles. Although their faces were masked by darkness, Uub knew who they were. He was in no shape to fight their ki guns for the second time that day. He need rest desperately. He instinctively mutter, "Solar Flare." And a blinding light materialized and bathed forest in a golden hue. And with a flickering silver aura Uub burst into the sky. He kept scanning the sky for his pursuers, expecting a sudden attack. Nobody came and Uub was safe, or so he thought.