Burs in the Fur

*Mithras* · 10-01-2015, 11:38 AM

That land was starting to cool. The grasses surrounding him had withered into shades of gold and pale green, and smelled sharp under the weak sunlight. Frost bit at the edges of the leaves and crunched under his massive paws. He made his way gingerly around clumps of varied plants, wondering what they were called and what they might do. The art of healing had always fascinated him but he'd never had much patience for the amount of study involved. No, he would rather watch from afar, and envy those who had the knowledge he lacked.

Mith looked skyward. The pale blue of early morning seemed like a smooth expanse of nothingness, marred by not a single cloud. Even so, the sunlight felt weak and did not warm him. He decided it was unseasonably cold, a snap of frigid air before summer returned to give its last death throes. He sat down amongst the dying plants and drew in a deep breath. there was something vivacious about the morning, despite it signaling the death of another year. He found a peaceful sort of tranquility in that, an odd emotion for the normally abrasive young man.
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Burs in the Fur

Mithras