The day was not marked by anything truly memorable other than how quiet and dully the clouds overhead rolled by. On the female’s mind was little more than glimpses of the days’ past events. The trill, the disappointment, the very turbulent nature of life as it slipped from present to past. Bi-colored eyes beheld the splendor of the pines in thought, her perch upon the mountain’s ledge maintained with expert skill and care as she lay. Her paws draped over the jagged edge in leisure, and upon the ankles, her head as she drifted in and out from present to past.
Yet were was a faint form upon the ground, illuminated like a beacon by a single ray of permeating light. Returning her mind to the present, her ears came forward attentively as her head too raised with interest to assess this strangeness. Another at the border? It was becoming routine. But while her companion might have looked to this as a chore, his ward looked to these comings as gifts of fortune.
Expertly, she slipped from her ledge to a downward lope from the mountain, leaving more foothold untouched in her practiced descent. Once tan paws touched the ground, she was off in an instant weaving through towering pine to their outermost reaches til the scent of the pack grew strong in marking, and at its edge stood a familiar face. “You return,” the woman addressed quietly in greeting, but made no movement to regard the female familiarly. Instead with quivering nostrils, she assessed her with the upmost scrutiny, drawing near to her flank yet remained at a respectable breadth. “We had thought you lost…” |