The nights were empty, and she found herself conversing with none but the howling winds as they flayed the tall grasses beyond the light step at the mouth of her den. In her days, birdsong filled her ears- mountain chickadees and grey jays, the little neep-neep-neep of nuthatches as they scrabbled up and down the trunks of the aspen in the foothills. Her days were lonely, chastized by the tap-tap-tap of the pileated woodpecker, a substitution for the clucking of her mother's tongue.
She guilted herself for her own loneliness, and wondered why it was that she had not made a single friend on the mountain- save for, perhaps, @Seal, who had been genuinely kind to her. The only others who had spent any time with her had been visitors from the other sister packs, and that was an indication enough that while her presence was allowed, she had never felt fully welcomed. She found the trails of packmates crossing the borders and had to wonder to herself if there were truly only two or three adult wolves on the mountain sometimes.
The thought shook her; the mountain was vast and dangerous. Should she slip and injure herself...It might be days before someone even went looking for her.
She longed for warmth; so she left the cold mountain behind.
She guilted herself for her own loneliness, and wondered why it was that she had not made a single friend on the mountain- save for, perhaps, @Seal, who had been genuinely kind to her. The only others who had spent any time with her had been visitors from the other sister packs, and that was an indication enough that while her presence was allowed, she had never felt fully welcomed. She found the trails of packmates crossing the borders and had to wonder to herself if there were truly only two or three adult wolves on the mountain sometimes.
The thought shook her; the mountain was vast and dangerous. Should she slip and injure herself...It might be days before someone even went looking for her.
She longed for warmth; so she left the cold mountain behind.
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