Post by Blue on Aug 26, 2015 18:02:40 GMT
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
The collie moved in time to the tip-toe tune of the calliope that trickled throughout the tent. Each note fell in its usual disjointed manner, now distorted by the crumbling remains of the speakers. It had been many months since her last show- when the auditorium was filled with adults and children alike who had gathered at sundown. The circus felt different now. Empty, distant...dead. The old straw beds had grown damp, moulding away into nothing and the battered fabric roof had torn, allowing rain to filter in whenever the weather turned. All of the others had left. All except Marra.
One, two, three.
She span, led by an invisible hand, springing upwards to stand on her hind legs in a pitiful mimicry of those who had instructed her.
Three steps forwards.
One step back.
Three steps forward.
And...Turn.
Each day she would repeat her usual routine, regardless of the lacking human presence. It was instilled into her- forced upon her. The same routine would be practiced for hours on end when the humans were around. The echo of the whip in her mind was enough to keep each paw moving in perfect time to the act that had been taught to her many moons ago. She'd learned to feel a shred of fondness for the peculiar tricks, and without the domineering presence of the humans it developed into something more- it was fun. It filled the time. What else was she to do?
Three turns.
Up.
The golden dog edged forward with surprising ease in her two-legged stance, stopping as she reached a large ball. With a light spring she was atop of the object, balancing on the orb as it began to drift around with each shift of her weight. Her tail fanned out into a plume of dull sand-coloured fur, aiding her balancing act as she continued to pace the object around the area with a gentle hum drifting from under her breath. It was here and only here that she could drop her guard. Visitors were rare. Those that did appear usually did so with the intention of meeting her rather than causing trouble. The years had gifted her with one thing, regardless of her poor circumstances. It had granted her a reputation. The stray failed to possess any true finesse when it came to social interaction; it happened on her own terms. She'd learned to make the rules herself. Nobody else had taught her. As a result of such improvisation, her mannerisms were often peculiar, especially to those ill-accustomed to the circus dog.
After circuiting the arena she abandoned the ball with a graceful leap, landing lightly on a platform to begin her ascent up the towering steel ladder. A deep breath entered Marra's lungs as she reached the summit. The scent of mildew was stronger up here. Her residence within the tent caused the dampness to mingle with the musky scent of ash that lingered on her dirty coat. A glint of fangs split her maw as Marra's hum continued in a silky trill. Her carefree accompaniment merged with the broken tunes that had been stuck on loop for longer than she recalled.
It was time for the grand finale.
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
The collie moved in time to the tip-toe tune of the calliope that trickled throughout the tent. Each note fell in its usual disjointed manner, now distorted by the crumbling remains of the speakers. It had been many months since her last show- when the auditorium was filled with adults and children alike who had gathered at sundown. The circus felt different now. Empty, distant...dead. The old straw beds had grown damp, moulding away into nothing and the battered fabric roof had torn, allowing rain to filter in whenever the weather turned. All of the others had left. All except Marra.
One, two, three.
She span, led by an invisible hand, springing upwards to stand on her hind legs in a pitiful mimicry of those who had instructed her.
Three steps forwards.
One step back.
Three steps forward.
And...Turn.
Each day she would repeat her usual routine, regardless of the lacking human presence. It was instilled into her- forced upon her. The same routine would be practiced for hours on end when the humans were around. The echo of the whip in her mind was enough to keep each paw moving in perfect time to the act that had been taught to her many moons ago. She'd learned to feel a shred of fondness for the peculiar tricks, and without the domineering presence of the humans it developed into something more- it was fun. It filled the time. What else was she to do?
Three turns.
Up.
The golden dog edged forward with surprising ease in her two-legged stance, stopping as she reached a large ball. With a light spring she was atop of the object, balancing on the orb as it began to drift around with each shift of her weight. Her tail fanned out into a plume of dull sand-coloured fur, aiding her balancing act as she continued to pace the object around the area with a gentle hum drifting from under her breath. It was here and only here that she could drop her guard. Visitors were rare. Those that did appear usually did so with the intention of meeting her rather than causing trouble. The years had gifted her with one thing, regardless of her poor circumstances. It had granted her a reputation. The stray failed to possess any true finesse when it came to social interaction; it happened on her own terms. She'd learned to make the rules herself. Nobody else had taught her. As a result of such improvisation, her mannerisms were often peculiar, especially to those ill-accustomed to the circus dog.
After circuiting the arena she abandoned the ball with a graceful leap, landing lightly on a platform to begin her ascent up the towering steel ladder. A deep breath entered Marra's lungs as she reached the summit. The scent of mildew was stronger up here. Her residence within the tent caused the dampness to mingle with the musky scent of ash that lingered on her dirty coat. A glint of fangs split her maw as Marra's hum continued in a silky trill. Her carefree accompaniment merged with the broken tunes that had been stuck on loop for longer than she recalled.
It was time for the grand finale.
