muck, haggard, silt, debris :3
boots hit the ground in a rhythmless fast pace, each step being left behind got filled water and became a puddle of tracks soon washed away under the harsh downpour of cold rain.
bringing one foot up with a hoist through the mud became difficult as the muck began weighing down the old man's legs and added pressure to his already weak joints that ached worse in the chill of the storm.
each time he came up the mountain to visit, it always seemed to be some sort of storm. you'd think by now, what with his body being so sensitive to changes in the weather, that he'd have better timed his visits, but yet here he was trying to hide away from the wet wind.
the old man, haggard and hungry, pushed on up the trail. the cabin wasnt to far now, he'd already made it past a few that he'd become used to seeing every visit.
dragging his feet through the mud grew more tiresome, unfortunately his footing landed on ground that was more like silt. he didnt mind the water, his feet were plenty soaked already, but it had risen just past where his boots stopped on his shins, so he began wading through the large puddle in his path with long strides.
when he finally reached the cabin, instead of being greated by his friend, instead of hearing the sound of her dogs, he was met with only the sound of thunder, flashes of lightling, and wet, charred debris of a ruined cabin.
it was gone. she was gone. and someone was going to have to explain why. someone was going to pay.
