chills and hills
#1
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Skoll Haskel
i need another story
something to get off my chest

my life is kinda boring
need something that i can confess


Yet again Skoll found himself wandering away from his caregivers and exercising his growing white-ankled legs. He was still clumsy and often tripped over his too-large paws, but the puppy was not disheartened by any of this. After all, there was plenty of snow to play in.

Giggling, the golden prince would leap in piles of the stuff and roll around, purposefully slipping through the tall grasses and shrubs with a wriggling body to dislodge as much of the cold white stuff as he could. He was completely covered from head to toe in frost, large clumps sticking to his growing fur until he managed to pause long enough to shake it off. He bumbled across the grasslands and the softly rolling hills at a decently quick pace, full of the energy that always seemed to appear in bursts to the youth.

At one point, he startled a vole that had hidden in the grass, quickly chasing it before it darted out of sight again near the crest of a hill. Gasping and pressing onward, he made it to the top and looked around in amazement. He could almost see the whole of Cour des Miracles territory from here! Howling and barking in his high child’s voice, he reared up on his hind limbs with forepaws batting at the air, proclaiming this mountain to be his—

A strong wind aimed at the golden source of noise, blasting him with a snowy gust and knocking him off balance. He yelped and tried to swivel as gravity claimed him, but soon he was on the ground—and soon he began to roll down the hill, faster and faster, nothing to stop his descent. He scrabbled at the snow and tried to clamp his teeth around a plant but kept rolling head over paws, until at last he came to a stop at the base.

“Ufff!” Skoll sneezed between his paws then lifted his head, giving his sore body a shake. Nothing seemed to be really hurt, but he was dizzy. He stepped forward, one paw crossing over the other and causing him to trip and bruise his chin, which had luckily healed after its pavement-scrape in Lunenburg. Nonetheless, the jarring pain made him whine.

Once he got up again, however, he realized that the base of the hill was extremely close to the borders—and that he might even be across them; he wouldn’t have noticed. Eyes widening, he glanced over his shoulder and wandered in a tight little circle.

“Gotta fin’ big hill,” Skoll mumbled to himself, before looking around and flattening his ears. “Okay, all hills big.” He plopped his butt in the snow and gave his head another shake; the ozone-like tang of the snow froze out any other scents he could pick up from the suddenly still air. Was he really lost all of ten yards from the boundary?

Word Count: 481

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