Black Ice

Winter had come, and just as Bass had promised all the trees except for the evergreens had been stripped bare and now silently clawed at the pale sky. He had grown quite a bit since his lesson with the Primo and could now walk comfortably without tripping over his paws. There was still room to grow but the growth spurt hadn’t gone unnoticed to the little lightning bolt. He wandered through the plains, lost in thought as fluffy white snowflakes fell around him. He felt that the plains had become eerily quiet, he was too used to the hissing of snakes that had in the months before slowly tapered off into silence. His slate fur stuck out like a sore thumb against the cold, all except for the tips of his ears which at a glance seemed to be missing.

The quails he had seen in the Thicket were dead, he could feel it. Nature was harsh and unforgiving, but then quails weren’t like wolves, they weren’t as strong or as big, and didn’t have thick plush coats like the one he had now. To him it seemed that all other animals were weaker than wolves except for bears, which were simply stupider. Wolves were the perfect combination of strength and intelligence, even birds with their ability to fly snapped like twigs in their jaws and could barely fight back. It made the young wolf think about the thing he had seen at the meeting, which at the time had seemed innocous, and had even made him curious but now that he as older and had an idea for the natural eaknesses and shortcomings of other species, it filled him ith disgust to know that it as being treated as an equal and he wondered what Bass was thinking when he decided to let it stay in Abaven.

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