I was back in the network of caves, where I seem to all but frequen these days, and days pass by over and over and yet here I am still. It probably isn't normal for a young wolf to constantly inhabit these caverns, but I have always been far from normal, and with the death of my father, and the dissapearence of both my adopted brother and my mother I have become even less ordinary. I still keep my midnight black coat groomed to silken perfection, even if there is no real reason for me to be looking my best. I have lost my ambition to one day throw my former alpha, Coza out of his throne and rule one day myself, no I have no need for something as shiny and typical as a crown. I am powerless in the change that is consuming me and sweeping me off my paws, yes I am a victim of the ever changing times.

I am only two years old and in such I have much growing to do, I have many lessons to learn, I must master something besides keeping my coat silkenly groomed, because today my midnight coat positively shines, just like my set of dark indigo eyes. My dear eyes undertoned in a dark bloody red, but it takes an observant wolf to ever notice. With my family gone my cold heart has softened in a way perhaps trying to preserve the memory of my adopted brother, but I have also grown more quiet.

Bright eyes of dark indigo keep a watch on one of the entrances to the many caves, gazing out at the world I seem to have all but abandoned, save for the trips out to hunt in order to keep myself fed as well as I could manage. In this world I am almost invisible because of the cave's natural darkness, only interrupted by the splattering of blonde and golden ochre across my muzzle and face. The only other thing that interrupts the darkness of my midnight coat is the dark russet splash thrown across my back to resemble wings, and the richj reddish russet that coats each and every one of my paws. I debate going outside for a simple foray, because I have been making my nest deep within the caverns all night yesterday, because something from the outside almost teases me, calling me as a siren might. The sun is shining brightly, and yet the snow is everywhere.

Perhaps soon I will wander the freelands in the wintery wonderland styled state they are in, and become re-aquainted with the landscapes I once played in. My dark indigo gaze stares ahead of me across the snowy expanses, and yet I turn around back into the caverns, to finish making my nest in my hide-away spot, not ready for the snow and ice that awaits outside. I move fluidly and with mufled steps as I follow the path to my hidden nest, almost intent on curling up for a quick nap. I am greeted by the remainder of my meal of a rabbit, the messily made nest of moss and leaves and feathers and fur, not a very tidy little hidden cove at all. My stomach demands that I finish my hoarded kill, and I crouch and my jaws tear meat from the bones, ears on alert for any approaching wolves, because I am not all that taverses these caverns.