When Two Collide

Misha would tilt her head to the side and swerve her ears in the direction of the male's words. She wouldn't be that lonely with him around. "What's that supposed to mean?" She would ask, melodic chords ringing softly in the wintery air. Misha would continue to walk closely to the male, their pawprints making a trail in the soft powdery snow. It was nice, the sun beginning to set. These two wolves would soon be silhouetted in the darkness of the tundra night, just the two of them.