Violent Heatwaves

It was with a shudder that the young leader sank into the stream, up to her nose, trying to quell the scent of herself. She’d turned two, and the odd sensations and restlessness she’d been starting to notice over the past week or so as the season turned had taken a sudden turn for violence.

She was assaulted with her first heat, and it was every bit as distracting and off-putting as she’d hoped it wouldn’t be. During her patrols, she’d taken to going alone, instead of with her aging father, and while that wasn’t unusual, she had to battle with the strange flutters running across Amos’ scent elicited any time she ran across a fresh trace.

Why could I not have been born in summer when strong smelling herbs and flowers are abundant, and the water being cool would be pleasant instead of chilling?

She couldn’t take the chill anymore—the water had soaked through to her skin and even her undercoat was soggy and cold. Aurielle pulled herself to her feet and shook heavily, flinging water in all directions and blowing out a sigh of frustration.