The crunching of paws over grass around my hidden crevice does not wake me, not even when I hear some twigs snap and a snort because I know I will not be found. My ears twitch and follow these sounds, keeping track of anything that should be alarming enough to wake me from my slumber. The darkness behind my closed eyes is familiar and peaceful, but moments of rest can only last so long. Exhaling a low yet heavy breath, I slowly open my silver eyes as I feel that it's the right time to wake up and become active. The surroundings of my hidden sleep area is familiar, and yet strange to me all the same. How long have I been sleeping?
I slowly turn my head, my silver eyes falling upon a rather large fox and nothing else. For a moment I am merely amused, as a memory decides to rise up and welcome me back into it's depths. A sleek russet fox bounding and playing as if it thought it had been alone, I had been watching with the utmost fascination as a young pup, before I decided to run after it and join the game, and I had almost caught up before it ran off in a different direction. A game of chase it had been, though the fox had won that round, I never even had a fair chance. I am back to reality now, my muscles pleasantly tensed as I watch the large fox, eyes narrowed as it darts away. Foxes are strange. They always seem to find me no matter where I go. Maybe destiny has something to do with it, or maybe it doesn't I'm only two years old and none of that stuff matters to me.
Toned muscles pulse beneath my black coat as I begin my movement, a path I am very familiar with, I knew this path like the back of my paw, better than any other loner did, after all every loner leaves eventually, usually after mates or imprints or something to do with matters of the heart or soul. My tail is loose yet above the ground as I move confidently, I have no interest in love or finding a place where I belong.
These lands are as good as mine though I want or need no claim over them, I know these lands better than anyone else and this is my advantage, I can blend in shadows and vanish to never be found if I need to. Blue-ish gray masks my face to help the silver hue of my eyes stand out, and yet I don't use my eyes as objects to lure people in so the point of that is lost entirely, I use my gaze for intimidation. It usually doesn't work on older and seasoned wolves, but on those my age and younger well, it just scares them away like someone lit their tails on fire. It comes in handy is all that registers to me. I move along my silent regular routinely patrol, perhaps searching for any prey, perhaps to see what loners still linger or what pack wolves intrude.
N E Z U M I
;Fixated on these memories like a prisoner inside a cell;
And turning all against the one is an art that’s hard to teach |