cry a little

The answer startled Muses, who could not imagine how anyone could stand to live alone. She had spent the entire season of spring on her own, and was certain that if she did not find a pack to join soon, she would die. Even as she tried to emulate each one of her sisters, take on their strengths as her own, she found she was deeply lacking. As she had been told time and time again, she was good for only one thing, and with only those words echoing in her head, she had begun to believe it.

From his tone and concise words, she thought that he was perhaps not one to talk, not interested in learning more about others, but he posed yet another question, more meaningful this time. She stood her ground, unafraid, lost in contemplation. It was clear that she did not want to be alone, but it required more explanation, she felt. "Of course not." She allowed her tail to hang in a neutral posture at her hocks, before elaborating. "I am a winter wolf. Not even the strongest survive on their own in the mountain range I used to live in." To venture alone meant almost certain death. Her instincts urged her to stay within her pack. "And I'm not used to it. I had many brothers and sisters growing up." Too many to count. So many that she craved the noise and chaos of dozens of wolves interacting within the camp. The relative silence was unnerving, and she inched closer instinctively, happy to be present near someone alive.

"Shall we see what's been through the area? Hopefully more than just mice." She suggested with a smile, pulling away only to get to work, lowering her head to start teasing apart the various scents she came along. For a moment, she desperately allowed herself to hope that hunting with the other wolf was every bit as exhilarating as it had been with her sisters.