04-23-2012, 10:47 AM
The sun stretched its arms above the horizon to greet a bright new day. Mist danced in the faded light as it hovered close to the ground, leaving behind drops of dew on the fresh spring grass. Not a cloud was in the sky and Ignatius could tell it was going to be a beautiful day. He lay on his back with his arms folded behind his head, not quite ready to get up from his bedroll. Morning was his favorite time of day and this dawn was an important one. He took in a deep breath that pulled in all the smells of spring: the cool scent of the mist, the sweet smell of flowers, and the earthy smell of the grass and dirt. It was good to be here.
Growing impatient with his delay, Pippa let out a soft whinny, telling him to hurry up. She was right; it was time to get going. Ignatius climbed out of his bedroll and rolled to his feet. He shook the morning dampness from his fur before doing the same for the bedroll. He rolled up his sleeping mat and went to his cart, which had been kept close by to shield him from the cold wind blowing form the north. He tossed the bedroll into the back of the cart and grabbed his cloak, some bread and a bag of oats. He swung the cloak around his shoulders to keep him warm and stuffed the bread into his mouth. The oats he gave to his mare, letting her eat them straight from the bag while he picked up the rest of their little camp.
They had set up camp in the heart of the woods, not far from one of the creeks that snaked its way through the trees. New Dawn’s border lay just a few yards to the east. When Pippa was done eating and had been hitched to the cart, they set off toward the border. Ignatius’ heart pounded in his chest as they drew closer, anxious for the first time in a while. How would this pack receive him? Perhaps they had no fondness for stories or tricks and the coldness of the north had frozen their hearts. He used to tell stories like that to the coyotes of the south after hearing them curse the northern wolves. Those stories had been made up, though, and he had no reason to believe there was any truth to it. Still, he could not help feeling nervous as he drew nearer to New Dawn’s territory.
There were no visual signs to tell him that he had reached the edge of their territory, just the smell of their markers cutting a line through the woods. Ignatius took in a deep breath and gave his mare a look and a nervous smile. “Looks like we made it, Pippa.” He looked to the painting that decorated the side of his covered cart, gaining strength from the scene of laughter he had created. He had come all this way to bring laughter and entertainment to as many wolves as he could. He should not forget that. He turned back toward the border and took in another big breath before raising his nose to the sky and letting out a howl that spoke of visitation and of friendship.
Growing impatient with his delay, Pippa let out a soft whinny, telling him to hurry up. She was right; it was time to get going. Ignatius climbed out of his bedroll and rolled to his feet. He shook the morning dampness from his fur before doing the same for the bedroll. He rolled up his sleeping mat and went to his cart, which had been kept close by to shield him from the cold wind blowing form the north. He tossed the bedroll into the back of the cart and grabbed his cloak, some bread and a bag of oats. He swung the cloak around his shoulders to keep him warm and stuffed the bread into his mouth. The oats he gave to his mare, letting her eat them straight from the bag while he picked up the rest of their little camp.
They had set up camp in the heart of the woods, not far from one of the creeks that snaked its way through the trees. New Dawn’s border lay just a few yards to the east. When Pippa was done eating and had been hitched to the cart, they set off toward the border. Ignatius’ heart pounded in his chest as they drew closer, anxious for the first time in a while. How would this pack receive him? Perhaps they had no fondness for stories or tricks and the coldness of the north had frozen their hearts. He used to tell stories like that to the coyotes of the south after hearing them curse the northern wolves. Those stories had been made up, though, and he had no reason to believe there was any truth to it. Still, he could not help feeling nervous as he drew nearer to New Dawn’s territory.
There were no visual signs to tell him that he had reached the edge of their territory, just the smell of their markers cutting a line through the woods. Ignatius took in a deep breath and gave his mare a look and a nervous smile. “Looks like we made it, Pippa.” He looked to the painting that decorated the side of his covered cart, gaining strength from the scene of laughter he had created. He had come all this way to bring laughter and entertainment to as many wolves as he could. He should not forget that. He turned back toward the border and took in another big breath before raising his nose to the sky and letting out a howl that spoke of visitation and of friendship.