He’s been gone for a long time now.
I do not know the exact number of days, but I know that he has never left me this long before.
Of course, I could have gone with him in that tiny, rickety wooden boat, rocking on the waves for days on end. Yet he and I both knew that I would be miserable. So he left me behind on this sandy beach with the promise that soon, he would return.
You should be protecting him, the seabirds rasp as they soar overhead. You should never have let him go off alone. You should have stayed by his side.
The salty cold water laps at my feet, calling me. Come, it whispers. Come. Find him.
For many nights and days, I have resisted the call of the sea, resisted the strong urge to leap into the waves and find my master. I have resisted the bitter wind that tugs at my ears and teases me into a frenzy of anger. He’s in trouble, it murmurs. Why don’t you go save him?
The wind does not understand that I am too small and weak. I know the waves would pull me under in an instant. I could never fight against the power of the current. The sea would delight in seizing me, tossing me, drowning me. It is a brutal beast.
Yet I still want to try.
The desire to leap into the water and find my beloved master grows stronger and more painful each day. As the moon rises and falls, I rest my head against the sand, my eyes never leaving the lapping waves, my body always tense and alert.
Some would have given up after this long, but I will not. I will never abandon my master. What if he were to return and find that I had left him to live alone on this stretch of sand he calls home? No, I will stay. I will wait, and I will be here for him when he returns.
My hunger grows into an angry beast, clawing and raging in my empty stomach. It, too, threatens death.
Hunger and the sea. They are my enemies.
I risk taking my eyes from the ocean just long enough to catch a small crab and devour the meager amount of meat its shell holds. I long for something real to eat. When my master returns, he will share his meals with me.
When he returns.
What if he doesn’t return?
I lie awake all through the night, watching the sea by the thin silver light of the moon.
I worry for him.
If he does not return, who will I guard on the cold nights when creatures with bright eyes lurk too close for comfort?
Suddenly angry, I rise to my feet and snarl at the sea, asking the question that is causing me such grief.
Have you taken him?
The waves give no reply, only lap innocently against the dark shoreline.
I wish I could grip the water in my teeth and shake it violently until it murmurs a reluctant answer.
I growl with fury, a harsh sound deep in my throat.
I begin to pace along the beach. Back and forth. Back and forth. I feel as if my master is close to me, yet farther away than he has ever been before.
A feeling of confusion and frustration rises in my chest, pounding and thrashing until I raise my head and howl, an eerie sound that I don’t recognize as my own voice. The high note echoes for a moment before disappearing.
I sink back down and rest my head wearily on the sand. I must continue my watch.
I will never abandon my master. I will stay here, always watching.
This was just sort of a randomly inspired thing where I saw a picture on Pinterest and immediately saw the story in my head. I love when that happens. 😉 What are your thoughts?
Do you enjoy writing in the POV of animals?