every face along the boulevard
Spring had brought her ninth year with it's warming winds. She felt strange not to have her heat accompany the change of weather. It was a glaring oddity, and a reminder of her age. As winter had come on, so had the beginnings of arthritis. Her joints had ached all winter, every morning when she awoke. With the return of some warmth, it barely subsided. This morning, she blinked against the rays of the rising sun. She had returned to the den where she had whelped her children, out of sentimentality and the desire for familiarity. All of her children had wandered off as they grew, and she wondered if they would return at all. It wouldn't be unusual, but she still felt sad to see them go. Olya remained by her side, and had curled up against the far wall for rest the previous night. Though she wouldn't voice it, she felt comfort in knowing that someone wished to remain with her. It took effort to rise from the cool stone. She drew in a sharp breath between her teeth as her knees screamed their dissent. A low groan rumbled past her lips as she settled firmly on all four paws. It would take some work to ease the pain from her bones. Slowly, she meandered toward the mouth of the den. In the morning, she felt impossibly old. Had she become an old crone already? She had been so busy caring for the children, she hadn't even noticed. However, now she wondered if there was much time left to teach her children everything she knew. Melting snow crunched beneath broad paws. There was no plan for the day. No hunting to be done, no one to see. An open book, and an invitation to take her time as she went along. A low hum passed her lips, a wordless tune betraying her aimless mood.
"speech" |
avatar courtesy of trash-klng on dA