To Ash and Dust part 2
Finally, after a month, the smoke begins to lessen and then finally stops. You expect the world to go back to normal. But it is anything but. The world is covered in ash. Any water found is blackened and thick with it and many things have suffocated and died. Making food less plentiful. The skies still aren’t clear. Smogy and thick and gray. Like the world itself has lost colour. Blackened and burned trees and hardened lava doesn’t seem to help that thought either. Survival is harder than it’s ever been… will you make it out alive long enough for the smog to dissipate and see a clear day? To see the night sky filled with stars once again and your moon shining brilliantly down on you?
Azazel blinked, coughing up ash as he arose from slumber. How long had he been out here? Without the moon nor sun to tell the passage of the days, he wasn’t sure. It’d felt like an eternity wandering out in the blackened world. If he had to guess, he’d set out from his home a few weeks ago, maybe a month or longer now. He nudged Ko’Koa, who still slept beside him. The female grunted and her eyes slowly peeked open.
“Issit morning?” The brown and red female asked him, groggily. Azazel shrugged. He brushed off what soot had collected on him overnight, at least that’s what he’d assumed based on when the need for sleep became too strong to ignore.
Azazel opened his bag, pulling some of the last strips of dried meat the two had left over from…. they’d reluctantly made the decision to butcher their mounts, a couple weeks into the darkness, when the plants had all been scorched, and the prey nowhere to be seen. Though uulara were sizeable, nearly three weeks later, they’d been rationed out to just about a enough for the day ahead. Azazel sighed, unsure if they’d be able to find food today. He turned, offering Ko’Koa her half of the jerky.
The female shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.” She lied. Azazel huffed, before offering her the food once again, with a more aggressive motion.
Eat. You need strength.
The mute alpha mimed to her frowning. Koa stared a moment, before relenting. Stubborn as she eas, she knew his own hard head would match her own. She nodded, and took the food. “Thank you.”
Azazel grunted, seemingly pleased.
Eat and walk. He signed.
The pair pushed their way through the thicker trees for a few hours, back in the direction that would lead to their home tribe, if there was one to return to. Neither of them vocalized their fears, but the pit in their chests grew every day they made it closer home. Would they find their loved ones waiting for them? Would they be assumed dead? Or, would they find only the remains of their friends, their families, their lives?
As they broke through the treeline, Azazel stopped in his tracks. His companion turned to him. “What’s wrong.” She groaned, as Azazel frantically patted her shoulder, trying to get her attention.
Sunlight. The sun is out.
He gestured to a part in the thick clouds, where a faint bit of light cut through, and slowly grew and began reclaiming its space in the sky. Before them, the landscape became more visible, and the bleakness became more apparent. All signs of fauna and flora had been erased. Water dried up or buried. The earth lay scored by some giant, unseen claws.
Everything is… dead. Azazel signed solemnly.
But. Today we go home.