 |
The closer it gets to fall, the more I start to see that there is just something very wrong with me. I have been feeling nervous beyond even what my skittish and shy self is entirely used to. I cannot seem to sleep, cannot seem to keep still. Wandering, ducking into thickets scattered amongst all the varying wildlands of Moladion.
It is all quite taxing, despite the fact I could travel for ages. It has been ages, after all, since I had been settled and safe. Always I am looking over my shoulder. Always I am having to fret if I should eat again. It is not a good way to live, but it is better than moving too quickly out of my life of meandering and setting my roots into a pack that might not provide good soil in which someone like myself could grow.
That is why, I suppose, I ventured to hide better in the thick woodland today. It is colder in the open fields and in the bowl of the crater and I am small enough to grow concerned when there is frost on the grass in the morning. Worse, even, at night when there was no sunlight to take the chill out of my nose. The wind does not help either, but it is not the bite of the wind that draws my attention to it. It is the howl - of both wind and voice - that seems to draw me to my feet in curiosity.
It is not as though I had changed since first meeting Mr. Bushface Quixote, but in this instance, I was well awake and prone to curiosities (that seem especially strong when I hear the depth of note in my ear). I really ought to swat my grandmama, what with her puckishness in winter seeming to grow more and more invasive on my mind.
What I find, grandmother’s proclivities aside, is a tumbling, bumbling, dancing, prancing, leaping figure of a wolf I have never seen or smelled before. He is white of face, like someone had placed a skull over the top of his head. He is then silver and gold, veins of metals I remember seeing in mountainsides and over rocky outcroppings in my homeland. It makes him seem flashy, even more (she thinks) than me.
“You have a lot of energy.”
My head tilts, confused as to the purpose of expending so very much energy for seemingly nothing. What was the purpose? Was it a lure? My thoughts cause one ear to swing back and flatten in sudden insecurity.
the little lass of nowhere
female | 4 years | 23 inches | 46 pounds | no mate | no imprint
|
|