01-24-2012, 08:28 PM
Like pieces of heaven falling to reclaim its lost angel, the crystals of delicate snow ethereally sifted around her slender vulpine body, moving to chase her gentle dancer's lope through the forest. Her hips and shoulders abound with well bred smoothness, a gyspy set in motion in the white frost that devoured her. Plush flurries sent in flight in her narrow trail, demure paws barely etching into the powder soft snow underfoot. Long, flowing mane of her alpine fure was luxuriously long and swept up in her dainty wake. She finally got to the outskirts of the festival, taking in everything she saw.
Crisp air snapped her senses like the long crack of a whip, she felt more alert than ever. This was her first festival, and she hadn't told her pack she was disappearing for a few days. Fall was delightful and set aflame in golds and rich aromas, springs laced in floral wreaths and delectably perfumes. Summers were the bane of her existence, her delicate nature simply wouldn't permit her to leave the shadows of her forests during the peaks of the day. But come winter, the porceline filly was in her element. A snow deity that commanded the chill in the air and flourished in the cool, indifferent snow that seemed to bow to her alone. Her shallow, girlishly blithe and carefree, plumed in faint mist from the warmth and moisture of her exhalations. It wasn't until the robust musk of another wolf that her radiant little canter faltered charmingly to a hesitant mixture of a walking trot, narrowly tapered muzzle rising to greet and discern it amidst the other scents affiliated in the air. For a fleeting moment her heart beat succombed to the feathering beat of a latin dancer's rhythm, starkly alarmed that it quite possibly would be him. But it took only a passing moment to know it was not, and quite far from it indeed. He was alone.
"Weird isn't it? All those wolves interacting with each other." She smiled, her slender skull low betwixt rolling shoulder blades peaking upward, ears pricked forward and alert at the pretty little crown of her skull. She took in every detail of him. The detail and color of his mo-hawk down to the exact color of his eyes. Multi-colored like hers. He is adorable.
wc:392
Crisp air snapped her senses like the long crack of a whip, she felt more alert than ever. This was her first festival, and she hadn't told her pack she was disappearing for a few days. Fall was delightful and set aflame in golds and rich aromas, springs laced in floral wreaths and delectably perfumes. Summers were the bane of her existence, her delicate nature simply wouldn't permit her to leave the shadows of her forests during the peaks of the day. But come winter, the porceline filly was in her element. A snow deity that commanded the chill in the air and flourished in the cool, indifferent snow that seemed to bow to her alone. Her shallow, girlishly blithe and carefree, plumed in faint mist from the warmth and moisture of her exhalations. It wasn't until the robust musk of another wolf that her radiant little canter faltered charmingly to a hesitant mixture of a walking trot, narrowly tapered muzzle rising to greet and discern it amidst the other scents affiliated in the air. For a fleeting moment her heart beat succombed to the feathering beat of a latin dancer's rhythm, starkly alarmed that it quite possibly would be him. But it took only a passing moment to know it was not, and quite far from it indeed. He was alone.
"Weird isn't it? All those wolves interacting with each other." She smiled, her slender skull low betwixt rolling shoulder blades peaking upward, ears pricked forward and alert at the pretty little crown of her skull. She took in every detail of him. The detail and color of his mo-hawk down to the exact color of his eyes. Multi-colored like hers. He is adorable.
wc:392