Teach me a new song.

Parker Sadira · 08-11-2011, 04:12 PM

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Word Count: 404

Okay if this is set before the raid? Since I am not sure how Parker will be feeling or what she will be doing after that happens. :O

Cool weather was coming, Parker Sadira could feel it. Her head tilted upward into the wind, her whiskers twitching at the crispness that she could feel. The girl smiled, wistfully thinking of the loss of sunshine and the gain of snow. It was a balancing act for the world, as so many things were. In payment for all of the warm summer months, they would drift into the cool air of autumn, then the cold chill of winter, before once again warming up in the springtime. To her, each season held a special place. As the summer was coming to a close and bringing with it the onset of autumn, she was excited for the fall leaves. The way colors changed was fascinating to her. At least, it had been last year. She had been a lot younger, but still quiet and introspective. This year, she intended to take some of the leaves and press them in between pages of a book. Earlier in the year, she had started to do this with flowers and other plants. It had worked out well so far. She wished to preserve the fall leaves, too, before they became crispy and faded into the wind.

Right now, though, the colors were still very summery. The weather was still warm, despite her feeling that autumn was on the horizon. There were still some days and perhaps even weeks left before it truly began to settle into her homeland. She was walking toward McNamara's Landing, a favorite haunt of hers. Its battered frame was a testament to the world pre-Luperci. It wasn't a place where she had noticed a lot of wolves spending their time, which she liked. Sometimes she could spend an entire afternoon just resting inside of it, nestled amongst the supply boxes that had been looted long ago. Today she had her empty satchel hanging at her side. Oddly, a water warped notebook was held in her hand instead of residing in the satchel. A pen poked up beside her ear, barely visible between her wavy golden locks.

As she arrived at the fallen plane, she pressed her palm against its warm side. It was a familiar gesture, almost a "hello" to an old friend. Slipping between two boxes, she curled up against the metal frame. Parker pulled the pen out from behind her ear, tapping it against her lip thoughtfully as she considered what to draw.

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