our dear daddy's smith & wesson

Her snowy paws trudged through the mud, thick and sticky as the hot midday sun began to evaporate the water. The muddy slopes, still treacherous from the rainfall the night before, steamed under the sun, slowly turning from dirt to sand the further west she traveled. Her tongue lolled in a heavy pant, sides heaving with labored breath. She had stalked a deer for nearly have the day, hoping that it would lead her to a herd, or a companion, or anything. But the deer seemed as lonely as she was, traveling persistently, never stopping, never slowing.

Muses, with her heavy coat, and built adapted to survive extreme cold temperatures, found that she could not keep up now that the sun was bearing down upon her in full force. Trudging up a particularly steep slope, the thought of not being able to continue briefly crossed her mind. It was best to turn back, to save what strength she had, now that the rogue deer had slipped out of site.

Coming to the peak, she looked around, seeing nothing but barren lands, muddy patches a dark stain against the pale dust, the various palette of browns swimming before her eyes. Her body seemed to sway, and then lilac eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed, overcome by the summer's heat.