creator_raven | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's another desert.

The sand is red.

The sun is, too.

Raven cannot remember how long it has been so.

He does, however, remember being hungry.

That has never been a surprise.

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And that, of course, is when the zombies attack. Not from the canyon in front of them, but from the sky.

Wait.

Maybe they just found a path up from the canyon floor.

Who knows?

Edited 2009-07-07 04:23 (UTC)

Now, when dealing with Raven and the associated atrocious luck that goes with this sort of venture, Ace has become... resigned is not quite the right word, but it is within the ballpark. Anyway, she expects that somewhere along the line, she's going to get killed.

She's fairly sure, in the way that certain things are just obvious, that dying due to zombie attack would be a very very very bad thing, even for her. As well as being one of the least pleasant things to recover from.

This'd be why the box is now plummeting to earth faaaaaar below and a small Eurasian Jay is rocketing skyward.

Raven sighs.

Loudly.

Then he dives after the box.

Who knew a raven could fall so fast?

Probably the zombie that's falling alongside him?

Ace is displaying an absolutely horrendous lack of familial feeling and is not coming to Raven's rescue, the cookie's rescue or... anyone else's rescue either.

Mostly because the little birdy was kicked upside the head by a flailing, falling zombie, and it's hard to come to anyone's rescue when unconscious.

Bad excuse, we know. She'd apologies if, you know, she was awake.

At least the sudden screaming sandstorm means the zombies won't get her first?

She'll just -- get smothered by sand.

But once Raven has caught the box of cookies --

Surely then he will return to unbury her.

Surely.

(Even if she might be safer left right where she is.)

Sure.

We can see the logic of that. Underground is a good place for dead people, even if it's temporary.

...

Unless you're worried about fire ants.

When Ace wakes up, she immediately wishes she hadn't. That sand pile over there is flailing.

In a small, feathery way, of course.

Raven sighs.

And digs through the sand.

And the fire-ants.

At least all the zombie flesh was destroyed by the sandstorm?

Okay, most of the zombie flesh.

Raven sets fire to the rest of it. Idly.

The smell is awful.

Thankfully, Eurasian Jays aren't known for their sense of smell.

They are, however, known for their cleverness.

Ace quickly discovers how many cookies are gone from the box.

And begins laying on the abuse. Since no one's been talking recently, her vocabulary is limited to... um... nothing, but she can rail at him all the same.

Loudly.

Her lungs are fine, at the moment.

At least her loud noises are muffled when he stuffs her in his pocket?

String and thread are good for nests.

And this way the zombies cannot get her.

Not even the ones falling from the sky.

Again.

She manages to peck his hand as she disappears into his pocket with a startled squawk.

A while later, she finds the opening to the pocket again and reaches out, poking him in the side.

With her hand.

Look, it's a big pocket.

Almost big enough for Raven to crawl inside, himself.

He moves elsewhere instead.

To somewhere with fewer zombies.

And maybe a hot dog stand.

These are trying times.

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