the wars of our fathers
04-28-2014, 12:00 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-28-2014, 12:06 PM by June.)
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{i'd still hear voices in these halls} The brown wolfess had wandered far from the warmer lands that she typically preferred. The frozen northern expanses of this land seemed to have hardly thawed even during the warmest days of summer. Snow crunched beneath her paws with every step, reminding June with every breath that she did not belong here. June had always craved the sun warming her pelt, and her favorite time of year had been the lazy summer evenings of her puphood. Practically every positive thing she could remember had occurred during the summertime - or at least during warmer parts of the autumn and spring. Winter had never brought anything good to June. And yet, here she was, wandering through the snow and sticking out like a sore thumb. Another reminder that she didn't belong here. But then again, June didn't really belong anywhere. She was a newcomer to these lands, barely washed up on the beaches, and already her brother had found a home. But August had always been the one to look out for her, and she didn't want him to feel obligated to look out for her now that he had a pack of his own. She could take care of herself, after all. She had been on her own for a year after the earthquake, and she'd survived that well enough. She'd hunted for herself and successfully avoided any particularly crazy wolves (knock on wood). So this would probably work out all right. June had this in the bag. Theoretically, anyways. June wasn't totally confident in that, but there wasn't really any real reason that things would definitely go wrong. The brown wolfess wandered as she thought, legs extending to carry her across the snow. An occasional shiver shook her frame, but the exertion was slowly warming her body. A plaintive glance towards the watery, distant sun was June's only outward sign of how much she wanted to turn back to the south and abandon this entire venture. She was determined, however, determined to prove that she could spend a day in the snows, even if it was only to herself. She was a daughter of the summer seasons, always drawn more to the warmth than anything else, and cold was the purest form of loneliness that she could imagine. Out here, isolated from any other wolf, and padding slowly through the snow, June could imagine that she was the only wolf in all of the world. It was beautiful, in a strange way. Aaaaaand she was definitely reading too much into things. |