the night we met

The season was changing from the verdant glory of summer to the crisp beginnings of fall. A swift chill had crept into the lands, reminding the wolves and their prey that winter would be upon them. Pups such as Dova would have to grow big and strong before the first frost; a sure indication that the weak would die, and only the strongest would survive the following cruel months of snow and flurries. "C'mon," The pup murmured, gently nosing Sinclair's shoulder to try and rouse them. After a wild game of chase, they had fallen asleep underneath a tree, and now that she was up, Dova was ready to resume their explorations. "Let's go!" Her voice was an excited, hoarse whisper, wrought with the effects of sleep and infrequent use.

With a huff and a shake of her head, she trotted off, her small cotton tail raised in a haughty manner. Whether her friend was ready or not, she was determined to set out. The steppe terrain was tricky to navigate, and with her short legs and small stature, she could use whatever advantage she could get. Even with her head start, she knew that Sinclair would catch up sooner or later.

In the golden glow of the afternoon, she happily occupied herself with combing through a section of a crumbling building. Sandstone and concrete had been reduced to stones, moss covered, jagged edges smoothed by wind and rain. To the young pup, it looked like a piece of a mountain had been strewn about the foothills. Although it's greater purpose went beyond the child, she saw that it provided shelter for small rodents such as mice, and eagerly began to sniff around, seeing what she could flush out with her presence alone.