Black and Gold

*Obsidian* · 09-25-2013, 03:03 PM

Obsidian

Obsidian had nipped Cormalin off to the meeting, and had been on her way where she ran across the wolf who had collapsed under her at the last meeting. Sarak. He looked much better now. Still skinny, but filling in again. She?d seen him before, it now occurred to her. He?d been unrecognizable that day. She?d walked with the male a ways, then become distracted by a blackberry vine catching in her tail. The male had slipped on ahead. She finally wrenched her tail free, losing hairs in the process, and took off at a trot. She wasn?t a major member of the pack, and part of her had the feeling she never would be. She knew her lifespan outlived the wolves, and it saddened her. Erani and Cormalin were getting older. They were fitter than most wolves their age, but it was still there, that knowledge.

She stepped into the meeting and settled under her chosen tree, listening to the wolves. Little Surreal was there, and Arella, as well as Cormalin?s sons Cael and Alsander. Where was Caerul? There was Claire. And Cormalin had made it, as well as? Yikes. Erani looked frightful. Still and cold, like marble given the ability to breathe. Or a fur coat. Chrysanthe?s words cottoned on, and Obsidian spoke up. ?I could be one of those that runs to Seracia to tell them.? And she would forget none of the message. Horses had wonderful memories. And a tendency to remember bad things especially well. Part of herbivore survival tactics.

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