I said, I cannot follow the river
of her myth; but I can
follow her sweet desert song
like a stream through the fiery hills.
Word Count → 321 :: Thanks for starting!
The pitter-patter of a scurrying mouse made the she-yote’s ears swivel, chasing the direction of the tiny prey as her lean lupus-formed body slipped through the dead stalks of sunflowers. She had been practicing in a shifted state far too much lately, and while she was getting more and more used to two-legs or a thicker frame, she missed the shape she had been born with, the only one that had been available to her only months ago. Just because she was infected with the virus didn’t mean that she couldn’t revert back to her old ways occasionally. She was definitely a changed woman, but she liked the simplicity of chasing after mice through the field, without thoughts of her pack or how to coordinate her steps.
She whipped through the plants and pounced upon her prey, enjoying the taste of its life-blood pouring into her narrow jaws. Licking her chops after having wolfed the little animal down, Vesper turned her head in search of another mouse. They were small morsels, but her small size meant that that quite a few of them would fill her up. These were also luckily distracted by the rush to find arthropods to hunt, since most of their other food would be gone with the frost.
She had pounced on another hapless mouse when the smell of a lone wolf caused her to lift her head. After she ate her most recent catch, she began to wander through the sunflowers once again. She finally came across the male, able to tell by scent that he was older than her—and non-luperci. That fact brought a tiny flutter to her pale chest, and with more exuberance than was normal when approaching a stranger, she walked closer.
“Not often I find someone just glad to experience life,” Vesper stated lightly, keeping enough distance between them as was polite. Her eyes rolled lazily over his black-and-gold-streaked silver body.
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