i hear my name as its called again

There's a certain sort of elegance to the way a new day greets a fading night that Sonnet enjoyed admiring. On the mornings when she woke way too early, too early to really wander too far from the den, she would lay at the mouth with her chin upon her paws. Her warm orange eyes would be on the the range that expanded out and over the rolling hills. Ears would perk when the rooster would slip from the large barn doors and crow his morning song. Nose wiggling as the prairie breeze brought in scents of sheep and goat. A cluster of noises and scents bring the big picture together that she, quite simply, can't get enough of.

Waiting for the sun to rise over the towering mountains in the distance, she relaxes and allows herself to succumb to her surroundings. Slowing her breath, stilling her muscles, finding power in patience as she continues to wait. If she was patient enough, she would be able to witness rabbits hopping forth from their burrows to go scour for dandelions and marigolds in the orchard. Her position was perfect and her tawny and cream coat blended in perfectly to the background so that she was near invisible to the long eared animals.

Sonnet