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Post by Imogen Cast on Jul 7, 2011 9:58:00 GMT -5
Imogen ran her finger over the paper, smudging the thick charcoal line into the pelt of the deer she was sketching. It was nothing more than finishing touches, and as soon as she finished shading in the creatures hip it came to life, mimicking the actions of the reality and grazing in her charcoal field. She smiled down at the drawing, adding small details with flicks of her pencil to the background, but truly this was done through idle boredom rather than a need for the strokes of graphite on the page. Finally, Immy sat the sketch pad on the grass beside her, and took to simply watching the deer in real life, finding elegance in the reality that her sketch lacked.
Eventually, Imogen lay down, closing her eyes. She had been here all day, waking in the early hours of the morning to hike up to the caves she had been shown a few days before. She had truly found the natural formations to be beautiful, but the deer tracks – now they were what had brought her back this morning. It had taken a few hours for the deer to grow comfortable with her however, but the wait had been more than worth it, and the few sketches that now filled the pages of her sketchbook were definitely worth the smudges of charcoal and splashes of paint on her dungarees, and wiped across the bridge o her nose. She was pretty sure she had a streak of orange paint in her hair too. But then, a clean artist, was not a real artist.
Stretching out in the grass, when Immy next opened her eyes the sun had disappeared behind the line of trees, casting the light of a fading dusk onto the forest around her, and she frowned. What time was it? Surely she had not been out here all that long? Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and rooted through the bag at her side, pushing aside paints and pencils to find her phone. It was covered in painty fingerprints and gems, but the old mobile worked, and it told her that it was already late evening.... Immy cursed when she realised she had fallen asleep. The deer she had been drawing was long gone, and now she wished to follow in it’s footsteps. It would take her an hour to get back down to civilisation, and it looked like her light would be gone in less than half of that time- as if the track up here hadn’t been hard enough to find and follow in the sunlight, let alone in the dark.
Still swearing to herself, she shoved her sketchbook and pencil back in her bag, got to her feet, and ran.
The speed however didn’t last long as the foliage became thick and the light dwindled. As thirty minutes stretch into an hour, and the last of her light disappeared, Immy became increasingly aware of the fact she was very, very, lost.
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