Lets see how far we'll go

stars are only visible in darkness

Saint hated storms. They were so tempermental, they had no reason to scream or to blind or to shove. The only job the sky had was to make it day and night, snow or rain and that was it. They didn't need the theatrics of thunder and lightning, or all mighty beings above, wind strong enough to knock someone over. It was all a bit much and the sky was trying too hard to be scary, it only ended up being annoying in the end.

He just didn't like storms.

A heavy breath escaped through his maw, the cold air making his breath visible to him, his odd eyes watched the prints he made in the snow. He wasn't exactly built or even made for cold weather, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't withstand. It was just something that caused him to be distracted. The gentle breeze that combed through his short fur, the ice powder beneath his paws that seem to try and get in between his toes. Saint was becoming keenly aware of the snowflakes that were melting on his back and neck, he shook out his coat in an attempt to both shake off the flakes and the water. He was about to continue on his way when he heard a cry out somewhere. He paused and his ears flicked, the adolescence had not given much thought to the relative silence of the place he was at, didn't even notice it until he heard that noise. He lifted his head and scanned his surroundings, he was confused for a second because he didn't find anything.

'Not saying hello... not saying hello, anyone who says 'hello?' ends up getting killed and left in a ditch...' At least, that's what his mother always told him, he could already imagine Darius scoffing at him. The thought made him internally sigh. Saint continued on his way, ironically, him walking ahead had then allowed him to actually see where that whimper from earlier might've come from. The pup was easy to see, given that everywhere was white and the pup was all dark colors. Of course, Saint's first thought wasn't 'Aw how cute', it was 'Where's the mom?'. He wasn't looking to be mauled by a protective mother, he had enough problems as it is. It was strange though, the pup looked alone... and sad. Sighing seemed to be a running theme today for Saint, because once again he found himself sighing, his ears falling to the side. That rare Samaritan inside him was causing an uproar, 'help the kid!' it said, 'just like a stranger helped you when you were a kid!'. Stupid conscious.

As Saint changed direction and walked slowly towards the pup, he was still ways away, he coughed loudly to announce his presence and called out to the child. "Aye kid where's your ma?" His Welsh accent rang thick in his scratchy voice. The adolescence was tense, for the chance that he had judged the situation wrong and the kid wasn't lost, or worse it was a trap and he was about to get jumped.

and i,

i feel so alive