Curiosity Never Killed Anyone

The soft, tiny dents in the snow mingled with the wafting scent of presence in the chilly breeze. It trailed across the snowy fields, around the nimble trees and to the clouds, accompanied by a soft, delicate voice belonging to a patterned she wolf. The fae's pelt bore an array of gray and black markings, running down her shoulders into a river of soot and to her hindquarters. One of the many strange things about this small female was her 'accessory' dangling from her gray neck of fur. A brown collar protruding from her chest fluff stuck out in the cool air. Her pale, icy orbs leaped about from tree limb to tree limb, and then trailed down to the snow. The sounds of soft singing danced around in the frosty aura around her, her smooth and foreign tongue protruding words of of seemingly happiness.

"You've made me
Into someone
Who should not hold a loaded gun
And now you sit upon my chest
Knock out my wind, knock out my best
And so long to no disasters
And mornings too
And so long to ever afters
So long to you."