Just Matt Now
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Feb 21, 2013
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Simba's father understood fairly well what this meant. He had taught his son a great deal of survival skills, those including what to do in climates such as these. Although under the conditions he was already in, that might have not mattered. The young boy's mind was to occupied, too over burdened to a degree where even his father could not comprehend. Watching eagerly to the view screen, the reality of what his son was going through was killing him inside, though on the outside he was stone cold and emotionless.
On the other hand, Simba saw this as an opportunity. He had gotten over a very large obstacle, and understood to try and give himself credit as to not lose his mind. Little did he know what was about to come. Finally reaching the perimeter of the large city, the buildings were all but destroyed. He watched carefully at the scenery, making sure no other murderer lurked.
Soon enough a chill had come over Simba, and the powdered flakes that fell were now frozen like snow. At first Simba did not understand, though when the temperature dropped and icy wind picked up, he knew he was in for some deep trouble. Covering himself with his arms, he tried stepping up his pace to warm his muscles, despite every movement aching and horrid pain it caused.
The only plan he could assemble was to hide in the buildings, perhaps use them to get across the city. As damaged and tattered as they were, they could still provide shelter enough to hopefully save his life.
Walking through the harsh winds, the bitter coldness feeling like it was peeling his skin back from the wind. Simba ran into a building blindly, hoping that it would not be as cold inside, and hoping that there was nothing inside that would come out and attack him.
On the other hand, Simba saw this as an opportunity. He had gotten over a very large obstacle, and understood to try and give himself credit as to not lose his mind. Little did he know what was about to come. Finally reaching the perimeter of the large city, the buildings were all but destroyed. He watched carefully at the scenery, making sure no other murderer lurked.
Soon enough a chill had come over Simba, and the powdered flakes that fell were now frozen like snow. At first Simba did not understand, though when the temperature dropped and icy wind picked up, he knew he was in for some deep trouble. Covering himself with his arms, he tried stepping up his pace to warm his muscles, despite every movement aching and horrid pain it caused.
The only plan he could assemble was to hide in the buildings, perhaps use them to get across the city. As damaged and tattered as they were, they could still provide shelter enough to hopefully save his life.
Walking through the harsh winds, the bitter coldness feeling like it was peeling his skin back from the wind. Simba ran into a building blindly, hoping that it would not be as cold inside, and hoping that there was nothing inside that would come out and attack him.