Alpine Lake A Father's Prayer

For @Amber

The time he spent away from the grotto ran together. Days stretched into weeks as he passed though unfamiliar terrain. Lakes, meadows, and mountains all passed him by in a dizzy haze, and his travels had begun to take their toll. The search for his children had been unceasing and the wear had begun to show. He was haggard -- more tired than he had ever been, but somehow he held onto the hope that drove him forward. His children were alive. Somewhere out there -- waiting for their father to come for them.

He would not dissapointment them. They would know their fathers love. Soon, he hoped. But still, after days of wandering southwest, the cardinal had picked up no familiar scent in his travels. Though his path drew him closer to his goal with every step, the cardinal was unaware. The Lord had guided him this far, but his faith was beginning to waiver. His frustration becoming more apparent with each passing breath.

Under the cover of a brightly shining moon, the cardinal drew near to a lake -- much like the one situated in the middle of the grotto he called home. His front end slumped with exhaustion as he dropped to his knees. With his tearful eyes fixed on the sky he prayed for the strength to bring his babies home.