Someone Like Me

The dry grasses tickled her little black feet and she sighed. Winter had come, but not fully. It had not drowned them in outrageous, sparkling white yet. Mireya had seen a flurry or two in her time here, but no more than that. It was a pity, really, that there was nothing to cover up these dead flowers. She frowned down at a shriveled up patch of daises and after a moment decided to continue walking, crushing the paper thin petals beneath her feet. Winter really was a pretty depressing time when you were alone. No family. No friends. No one even of her species, it seemed. What was she supposed to do? Give in and become friends with the wolves? She knew she would have to eventually, but right now it still felt like doing so meant keeping company with those who had murdered her family and everyone else she cared about.

There had been a wolf she had talked with a couple of days ago, whose name she had already forgotten. He had told her that not all wolves were the same, there were good ones and bad ones like there were good and bad of everything else in the world. He had a point, Mireya knew. But it would still take time for her to trust the brutes enough to spend much time around them. God, what she really wanted was to find a fox. Just one. Was that really too much to ask?

The fiery orange woman walked through the dull field of dead wildflowers and looked over the rocky edge of the cliff beyond. How high up was that? How long would she fall before hitting the water, if she were to jump? It was a valid question.