Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.
A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.
Flame of Life (Dib please ^.^) IP: 70.120.200.97 Posted on March 29, 2013 at 03:05:51 PM by Nocturne Allegro
A small scrawny wolf pup stumbled through the burnt half of Blossom Field, the sun gleaming down at her from high above. Each clumsy footstep caused dust to stir up, covering her mousy brown pelt to be coated in a thin layer of ash. Charis sneezed and coughed, soot getting into her lungs. With frustration, she plopped her butt onto the ground, holding her breath as she waited for the dust to settle. Sharp golden eyes glared at the other half of the field; it wasn’t a far walk for normal sized wolves, but for a tiny pup like herself who was close to the ground and couldn’t hold her breath the entire trek to avoid inhaling ash, was a long and treacherous hike. Her throat burned already from what she had breathed in, and coughed again to try to expel it from her lungs. ‘This can’t be healthy’, she thought with irritation. Looking down at the dust before her, Charis slowly ran her paw through in in a line, careful to not to let any to fly up. ‘Maybe if I walked slowly enough, I won’t suffocate myself.’ She frowned mulling the thought over in her head, ‘But I won’t get to the flower side until sundown…’ Her heart sunk, knowing it was no place for a defenseless pup to be out at night alone… not that it was much safer in the daytime.
With a sigh Charis closed her eyes, thinking back to not only a few days ago. The pup remembered the piercing fear of her waking up to find her mother gone, her scent stale. She remembered the loneliness and hope of her mother coming back as she waited for days and the despair each night that her mother did not return. ‘Maybe she left because she couldn’t feed me’, Charis thought, her chest tight with grief, ‘or maybe something happened to her… Maybe she’s dead’. Charis swallowed, the burning sensation in here throat lessening only a little bit. Finally the pup had taken matter into her own paws, and left the little den where her mother tried her best to care for her, so now here Charis was; her own paws taking her into a difficult situation. She could feel her ribs poking out from her sides; the hunger no longer rumbled, it was now just a dull ache deep in her gut. She suddenly felt very tired. Only that fire of raw determination and stubbornness had gotten her this far, but fire never lasts when it was not taken care of. Charis laid down carefully, resting her head down on her feet and breathed softly, afraid to stir up the more soot and dust. She could imagine the feel of her mother curled around her, her scent caressing her with protection and love.
She forced her eyes open to snap herself out of the daydream, and looked longingly towards the flowers. Where they Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes? The ones her mother had showed her once? She tried to remember other flowers her mother had taught her, but weak with hunger, it was difficult for the pup to focus. She sighed, causing dust to swirl out. There were still some warm coals of determination to survive in her, but she was smart enough to understand it was hopeless on her own. It was a surprise she had gotten this far. Charis whimpered, she wasn’t ready to die yet, but how would she have the energy to hunt once she made it to the flower field? How would she even learn to hunt? She closed her eyes again, mentally preparing herself to waste away in the dust.
