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Blood: Coldblooded

26 Oct

The sun woke him in the morning, hitting him square in the eye and warming the earth around him. Warmed, he’d leave his crevice and stretch out on his rock. Periodically he’d slink off into the shade and scope out a meal, but mostly he spent his time on his rock.

During cold or rainy months, he would hurry to find food before he grew too stiff to catch it. Sometimes he couldn’t be bothered to leave his nest at all. He lived for those clear, warm days when it was just him and the sun.

Nothing felt better than sunbathing.

 

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