Alone Together

The trees stand starkly in the winter morning like x-rays of their summer selves, only in reverse; black on white. They look so forlorn in the frigid early evening, with already the short winter daylight fading. The young Lord attempt to lean on the tree bark like he could in summer, but on these winter days it's icy and quickly soaks up the body heat from his shoulder leaving him as cold as those trees. He could not help but shiver and stamp his teacup pads, peering into the encroaching gloom, watching for the right jewellery, Mother jewellery.  But she id no where in sight. He kept hoping that if he will continue to gaze upon the horizon, over the packland territory, he will see them there, walking home and arguing but there was no sight of either og them. A sigh left the Lord small maw as he rested upon the bark, uncaring of the wetness of how his fur clung to his body.

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