puff of air
#2
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::OOC:: S'alright. XD


Sylvie shivered as she padded her way into Cottontail Valley. The narrow valley, littered with soft green grasses and wildflowers, was covered in frost, heralded by an icy chill in the air. For the thin-coated collie dog, it was pretty, but rather unpreferred. Winter's hold was every growing, it seemed, dancing onto the world as the tips of Jack Frost's toes touched each blade of grass. Vivid violet gems scanned the horizon as lilac and cream form huddled around itself, arms hugging slender frame as a testament to the temperature. She walked quietly along the stone wall that cut the pretty scene in two, the scent of salt water and lavender following after her, fervently clinging to fur long since free of the ocean's grasp. The yearling paused a moment, startled by what appeared to be a brown rabbit bouncing out of the tall grasses.

Cocking her head in confusion, the caramel and cream beauty investigated the scene, watching again as the form bounced out of the grass only to vanish into the frost again. No, he was not a rabbit. He was a child, a pup, enjoying his life among the Crimson Dreams of the earth. A sense of bittersweet humor settled over the older dog as she recalled those recent days she too enjoyed melting her first frost. As a native resident of Florida, her arrival heralded her first frost, first cold, first snow. Had she ever played in the snow? Foggy memories tickled at the back of her mind as she tried to recall. Alas, it seemed impossible to think that she had ever been that happy, with how confusing her life had been as of late.

The slender optime female hoisted moon-spun form up onto the wall, watching in slight amusement as the whelp enjoyed himself. "That looks like fun, little one. Mind if I join you?" She asked, debating on if she should shift forms or not. Her canine form would be far more useful with an unchanged pup at this point, as her optime form did little to make melting frost fun. Her herding bred form, however, would do much better in the tickly grasses of their little spot.

Speak. Think. Walk.

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