The Touch of a Sound

Delicate sounds, almost like whispers gently claw into my ears, enticing me out of my sleep, drawing images on the canvas inside my head, dashing sleep on the rocks upon the shore. I search the landscape for the disturbance. I can feel agitation climb onto my shoulder as a growl vibrates from my throat. There’s nothing within sight, but as the wind shifts the fur on my back mutters swirl through my hearing seeming to be brought from the mountains to tease my eardrums and bite at my imagination. My mind starts circling myself, tension drips from my pores and this incessant, quivering of sound, not heard by all, rattles in my skull putting unrest upon my feet, making my cavern seem like a cell. With no rest for the wicked I lope towards the closest crops of trees, in my distracted state my attention is back in the cave and only when the wild game scatters does the bulb come on with my realization that I am reverting.