ardent

Clear Skies and New Hope



Imena

Loner

age
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664
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build
posts
129
player
08-01-2013, 09:34 PM



A, summer, the heat the top peek of life. Eveything grew and blossomed during this season. It was a time when young grew stronger, their bodies perparing them for the cold seasons. It was when predators became fat and strong, gaining in weight. A time where to sun kept it's rays on the earth a little while longer. The grass was green and thick, herbs grew in abunce. But it also a time of over bearingeat, droughts and sometimes famine. Prey it be that Valhalla wld not have to go through those trying times.

Dark gray figure zig and zag along the land, going from one good patch of green growth to another. Sky blue eyes were intent to search out herbs needed to restock her den. She had found a solitude den, abit off from the pack but in the heart of the territory. It was a large den made of soil and rock, most likely once a bear's long ago. It offered many places to store her herbs. Located high enough to be out of any flooding zones, she had set on the task of turning the cave into a cozy den. She didn't mind so much sleeping on the hard ground, her piority was gathering. Who knew when someone might need her help. Firmly gripped in her jaws was some chamomile, chervil, dock, feverfew, goldenrod and parsley. She was very satisified in her search. But with so much, she needed to head back and store them neatly in her den. Maybe after a rest she would go out again to find bedding.

Trotting at an easy pace, she moved along the borders. Some reason she felt the need to run by here every so often. She supposed it was because she wanted to greet any new commers. Or it was Cormalin's story of one of the healers being attacked. She worried one of her pack mates might be lying injured here. Small female gave herself a shake before turning into the land towards her den. If there was ever one thing she could complain about herbs, it was that they always masked other scents. She was left to rely on her eyes and ears only. With mid-sun coming the heat was getting to her. Pausing she set her bundle carefully at her paws and laid down. Just a little farther was her den, but hold herbs in your jaws meant you couldn't pant. She laid there with her eyes closed, jaws parted to let her tongue roll out and pant. She wished her fur was lighter in color. This dark gay and black attracted too much heat.

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