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 → 212
The silver wolf quickly stood when he noticed her, and Vesper took one additional step backwards as a precaution in case he was the grouchy type of loner. She was sure that she would have reacted with snaps and hissy fits if she’d been caught like this as a teenage loner, and this older male might have wanted to been alone, too. She smirked faintly and swished her tail lazily against her hocks before tilting her large ear forward at the sound of his voice.
“But you’re interesting—untouched by the virus, single-formed.” Her blue eyes were sharp with curiosity and a faint longing as she looked at him. “I used to be like that.”
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