"In the shadows I must wait, until the time comes at the date; only then may I spring from my place to find the water up to my waist!" An impish giggle spills past my lips at the dance of my words upon the fresh Spring breeze. I have only just returned to the place I was once, and already I find my mind wandering from what it had been on before. There was a reason I was here again, one that I wasn't thinking about now and did not plan to. The water was my target; and oh, would I have what I wanted so. With delicate and small waist wiggling at my core, I am tensing my muscles before relaxing them, only to tense again and relax again. I keep up this motion, of going and not going, a silly and fun game for me to play for my own pleasure and amusement.

I do not find anyone around me, therefore I do not think about anyone around me. I am in my own world, my own bubble so to speak, and I could not be happier. It has been this way for some time, since as far back as I can recall really. I know I had a family and a place I had come from; this place was that place and that was the extent of it. For now. Toxic green eyes are focused on the crisp blue waters of the river, and the way bubbles swirl and froth across the surface like swirls of cotton in the sky. But on the water. The world is a very very strange place, and I find myself liking strange things that I can find every strange place. A bark erupts from me in my excitement, and it is the date and the wait I have been searching for. Bursting forth from my place in the thicket that is somewhat near to the shore, I make quick work of the land between here and there. "Waits I have done, and I can't waits no more- here I come, rocketing toward the shore!" Wild, maniacal laughter follows my words just moments before I make my plummeting jump. Now, my leap you see is something of a mystery and a fantastic thing all at once. I am small but I am spry as I am lean, and much like a jack rabbit equally so spry and lean do I make my way in the very middle of the river.

Down I go beneath the cool surface of the liquid, dainty white back and front paws heaving and churning to get my petite skull above the water. Even when I manage that, a magnificent and broad grin is plastered against my features as I cough out water and manage not to bite my long pink tongue off. I do not care or mind where the river takes me, and for some time I merely ride along until I make my way to either side of the shore and pull myself upon land at last. I am a tired girl, panting hard with my pink tongue hanging out of my mouth, like some out of breath jester, and the notion has more giggles erupting from the tip of my tongue. How amusing, how funny life is when you have no particular direction at all. And of all wolves I have no where to be and every where all at the same time; all at once.