WC: 399
Sorry to keep you waiting!
Being so near to the place where all of her hopes and troubles stemmed from, well, she could not resist a secret visit to the lake. Colibri felt proud of herself, in a small way, for having finally visited the packland of Crimson Dreams. It spoke to her, but she knew that was the call of the one who had ensnared her heart. If the blue-eyed spirit lived in the underworld itself, Coli knew she would find the hellfire and brimstone just as poetic and romantic as the dew-kissed trees and the soaring manor that the Dreamers called home. Now she just wanted to slip back and relive that spring evening, the time when she had succumbed to her insecurities and let wine do her talking for her, and somehow managed to meet her first crush... her first love.
Shivering at the thought of such a serious and exciting commitment, the shy werewolf blushed, despite knowing that she was completely alone out here. Rainwater had drenched her fur, and it did not faze her. The cloudy skies had stopped drizzling, but rivulets still trickled from her silken mane, dampness darkening her chocolate-brown fur to a rich mahogany. The introverted Optime padded forward, feeling an eddy of excitement welling in her breast. All was well in the world, she had hope again, she had someone to care about! It was unconventional in every way - different packs, different ages, same gender - but the impossibilities made her feel even more giddy. Her sodden tail swayed a merry tempo behind her hips, flicking rainwater onto the trembling blades of grass she trod upon.
In her lovesick obliviousness, Colibri entered the open clearing, unaware of the ghost-pale figure in the long coat languishing against a tree. Her heart fluttered fast in her narrow ribcage, urging her to do something silly, something she would never do if anyone was watching. Humming a tuneless melody through her teeth, the two-year-old let her expressive blue eyes fall shut, relying on the crisp feel of the meadow between her toes, as she began to whirl and waltz. She did not know how to dance, but she was a creature of the wild, and she knew how to let nature channel its energy through her receptive form. Tipping back her muzzle to the sky, she let a tentative smile grace her delicate features, optimism lending her wings.
