Back dated to the 16th, please. In a meadow surrounded by woodland. 404
It was a hideous day. Again. The sky was the color of sickness, if you could put a name on it. Wisps of dark grey clouds chased each other into dizzying circles, consuming all light that one soul would hope for. A repugnant wind was sweeping it’s icy fingers across the lands, penetrating the trees and the flowers and the woodland creatures who fought their way back to their dens. It seemed as if the whole side of the word was tinted grey with sadness. But that didn’t seem likely.
This wasn’t the first time this type of weather had stung the air and poisoned the sky. Most of the animals in this area were used to it by now and the few that weren’t were too tired that they tried not to notice. The young female was a good example. Her silver pelt seemed dull as the wind buffeted it with a sturdy hand. She lay, unmoving until the sun had reached midpoint and refused to try to rupture the shade of clouds. Finding no other point to lay around, the she wolf stood. Her joints were stiff and her stomach knotted with anxiety. The sudden change of weather took its toll on her body. Her normally curled tail hung limp and straight behind her, mirror her discombobulated figure. One might think she was suffering from depression with her milky, unseeing eyes. But she blinked. The illusion of a statue was broken in a fraction of a second. Eyes clearing, the mistress focused. The sky of course was the number one priority, but it remained to mock her with dark sighs.
Mechanically, the female shook her dull grey pelt, shaking from head to tail tip. Instantly, the black and brown feathered tail curled up, touching the wolves back. Ear perked up at a startling pace and eyes became as see through as crystal but as ashen colored as the sky. The difference was the unusual hew of purple and blue. In just those few minutes she was back again. Ever. With a giddy tail flick she sprinted into the woods, leaving her parents house behind. Legs pumping and much-longed-for muscle aches, Ever hopped a log with a tenacious bond. She could almost taste the meadows fresh air and see it in her mind’s eye -its virginal river which flowed delicious water, the game whose meat tasted untouched. She could hardly wait.
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