Chapter 2: The Silent Path
(Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. The next one will be longer, I
promise!)
Chester didn't get much sleep the night after he encountered the two talking animals, Timon and Pumbaa. Ever since they spotted him he feared that this "Simba" may be a bigger animal than he could have expected. The fact that two completely different species of animal could be the best of friends arose suspicion. He knew that if he had the guts he would stay at the crash site to find out exactly what "Simba" is. But Chester however, valued his life, it was a miracle he actually survived the crash so he wasn't prepared to throw it away to curiosity. He decided that he would start to head out in the morning in search of civilisation or (he dreaded to think) die trying.
The sun beats down onto the plants and trees which towered over the grass and land-animals providing them much needed shade. The half-demolished plane is mirroring the sun's rays causing it project a blinding light. Inside, Chester is preparing to set off for an unknown destination.
Chester: O.K! That should be it! Let's see. Backpack. Check! Torch. Check! Sweater. Check! Baseball Cap. Check! Hmm. No bait. (Adding sarcasm) Oh wait! I forgot! I'm the bait!! Oh well. Better take some fruit in case I don't get mauled. (He lifts some fruit he found from outside.) O.K! That's me!
Chester swings the backpack over his shoulder and straps it on. He goes through the window he opened the day before.
He starts walking and then suddenly stops. He turns around, hangs his head and remembers everyone who died in the crash.
Chester: (He sighs) don't worry, I'll let make sure you guys get a decent burial. I promise.
Using a fist he marks the cross sign across his chest like a priest. He slowly turns around and starts walking again.
He's walking in no particular direction and already his feet were beginning to ache. He checked his watch and the hand had stopped moving, the trauma from the crash must've screwed the battery or something so it was rendered useless. He tried to stay away from as many animals as possible in due to the fact that he wasn't supposed to be here. The path he took grew deeper and more derelict feeling, by the time he was sure he was out of animal view he wasn't so sure this was a good idea. The grass had slowly shrivelled away to nothing. Well, ALMOST nothing, as a powdered dust had swept the ground. The trees had grown ancient and were rotting and the ground was rising and falling as through someone or something had made an attempt to carve out their own Kilimanjaro but had failed miserably. Chester couldn't help but feel a great wave of depression being in this place. There was no noise at all in this "canyon" which made him more suspicious than Timon and Pumbaa's friendship. That hardly seemed to matter anymore. He was alone again in a place of misery that surely no animal would venture into.Or so he thought.
Chester didn't get much sleep the night after he encountered the two talking animals, Timon and Pumbaa. Ever since they spotted him he feared that this "Simba" may be a bigger animal than he could have expected. The fact that two completely different species of animal could be the best of friends arose suspicion. He knew that if he had the guts he would stay at the crash site to find out exactly what "Simba" is. But Chester however, valued his life, it was a miracle he actually survived the crash so he wasn't prepared to throw it away to curiosity. He decided that he would start to head out in the morning in search of civilisation or (he dreaded to think) die trying.
The sun beats down onto the plants and trees which towered over the grass and land-animals providing them much needed shade. The half-demolished plane is mirroring the sun's rays causing it project a blinding light. Inside, Chester is preparing to set off for an unknown destination.
Chester: O.K! That should be it! Let's see. Backpack. Check! Torch. Check! Sweater. Check! Baseball Cap. Check! Hmm. No bait. (Adding sarcasm) Oh wait! I forgot! I'm the bait!! Oh well. Better take some fruit in case I don't get mauled. (He lifts some fruit he found from outside.) O.K! That's me!
Chester swings the backpack over his shoulder and straps it on. He goes through the window he opened the day before.
He starts walking and then suddenly stops. He turns around, hangs his head and remembers everyone who died in the crash.
Chester: (He sighs) don't worry, I'll let make sure you guys get a decent burial. I promise.
Using a fist he marks the cross sign across his chest like a priest. He slowly turns around and starts walking again.
He's walking in no particular direction and already his feet were beginning to ache. He checked his watch and the hand had stopped moving, the trauma from the crash must've screwed the battery or something so it was rendered useless. He tried to stay away from as many animals as possible in due to the fact that he wasn't supposed to be here. The path he took grew deeper and more derelict feeling, by the time he was sure he was out of animal view he wasn't so sure this was a good idea. The grass had slowly shrivelled away to nothing. Well, ALMOST nothing, as a powdered dust had swept the ground. The trees had grown ancient and were rotting and the ground was rising and falling as through someone or something had made an attempt to carve out their own Kilimanjaro but had failed miserably. Chester couldn't help but feel a great wave of depression being in this place. There was no noise at all in this "canyon" which made him more suspicious than Timon and Pumbaa's friendship. That hardly seemed to matter anymore. He was alone again in a place of misery that surely no animal would venture into.Or so he thought.