Dragonfly tip toed across a fallen cypress tree to keep her paws dry. The spring thaw filled the swampy area between the Enocra Forest and Mecor Valley so it was near impossible to navigate the area without getting wet. Dragonfly didn’t mind getting wet and she had little reason to avoid the water other than it seemed natural to walk upon a bridge instead of wade through sludge.
This amount of green was phenomenal. She came from a wintery home, where boulders were trees and drifts of snow were brush. Dragonfly had no agenda other than to observe the new forest and look at flowers and fins berries and move on. She had been attacked upon her arrival in the last week of winter, and so was eager to get into the cover of trees were more hiding spaces were available to her should she meet other nasty tempered wolves.
Evidence of her hard time was the fresh, short growth of that was on her hindquarter. The scab was gone down, and the skin repaired; all that was left was to wait for the fur to fill in and hide completely that she had ever witnessed such brutality. What brought her in this direction was her unconscious desire to be close to the home of Jaeger. She was forever greatful to him for staying with her through the attack, and even taking wounds for her!
She would have made her way towards the mountains again to seek out Arthfael, the other kind male who had helped her, but she had just come from that direction and it seemed awfully illogical to her to go back the way she had just come from. She’d circle around eventually, she’d decided. There were many wolves near her age in this area of the world, as her experiences so far were teaching her.
Her job was to find a mate among them before she turned four; that was the way she was taught, anyways. Find a life mate quickly,and have many pups to continue the line. Her line didn’t have an inclusive name; they were just of good stock - solid conformation, warm fur, and free of defects. She was proud of it, off course, though something in her gut was awfully nervous about the course of action; she wasn’t sure she wanted a life mate just yet, but she had to find one. That was the way of life.
It was Amazing the amount of thoughts a wolf could have while she crossed one twisted fallen trunk, eh?
FEMALE \ 3 YEARS OLD \ 32 INCHES \ 150 POUNDS \ GYPSY \ NO MATE \ IMPRINT UNFOUND \ TOULOUSE
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