the sun is shining the birds are singing

He was trying not to feel bad about slowing down for the morning. Erys wanted to work hard for Chimera in the pack but it was too much for his thin frame. So, as he was told or asked, however it was interpreted, Erystotle was taking things easy. As the sun warmed the island the pearlescent man napped at the base of the great tree in the courtyard. The sunlight streamed down in dappled beams, covering the sleeping wolf’s fur in warm patches. Content and safe were two emotions he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Being here like this was like nothing he could have imagined for himself.

He was peaceful and happy here, and sometimes he wondered if he had died and was living his own version of a paradise afterlife. Erys was unsuspecting and relaxing, naive to the excitement going on beyond the quiet courtyard. He was used to having the gaggle of pups in one direction or another. It wasn’t unusual to hear them laughing, or growling, at each other in one way or another. But something disturbed him, and Erys lifted his head from his paws.


"Erystotle Atlas"