Squirrels Are Friends, Not Food
07-22-2014, 10:18 AM
It was mid-day, or at least close to it, dawn being closer than dusk. The sun drew high in the heavens and clouds wrapped around it like a quilt. Clouds in which were ranging from white to grey in color. Surely that meant rain or perhaps even thunderstorms as the day grew older. The trail would lead him to a land frozen with thick ice. Tree tops protruded from the frozen liquid. It appeared as if it may have flooded in this land and consumed all life below it, except for the tips of tall trees. If one look at his or her feet, it felt as if he or she was standing on the edge of heaven - peering down upon the life below, though in this case, the life below was frozen in time. The perfume of his mate was strong here, and this is what brought him back to the northern lands. Rustling in the distance had to mean it was her. It was the only scent of wolf that tainted the air. Winter traveled in the direction in which he heard the scurrying. Ah, and there he would find his love chasing a squirrel which was now. . . on her back?! How strange. It seemed like the little thing was mushing her as if she were a sled dog. Rodents were not capable of such intelligence, were they? Winter loped over to where his love was and stood there - eyes stuck on the little fuzzball. Uh. . . Misha. There's a squirrel on your scruff. Want me to snatch it off? It's kind of creepy looking. my actions | my words | my thoughts |