Silverlight Terrace Then there's me, I'm seventeen

A light blanket of snow cloaked a canvas of rolling hills, across which travelled a lone wolf. The wind from the coast couldn't reach this far inland, giving the wandering male some relief from the snatching of the air for a time. His paws brushing over the land was enough to uncover frostbitten grass below. A verdant land, surely. He passed through many like it in the past, and there was always a promise of small prey, even when winter settled over the land.

It took him only half an hour to uncover two field mice. The first one he caught without much incidence by driving his forepaws into the thin layer of snow and crushing it as it tried to escape. He gulped it down eagerly and continued on. The second mouse was wilier than its deceased companion; no matter how many times he plunged after it, it evaded his grasp. The lone wolf panted as he streaked across the terrace in pursuit of its tiny dark figure, but its darting, erratic movement proved too much for him and it escaped into a hole in the ground.

With a plaintive whine, the male hunched over the hole and began scrabbling at it with his paws in an effort to widen it enough to find the mouse and snap it up. Unfortunately, the hole was a network rather than the dead end he thought it would be, so while he dug at the hard ground, the futility of it evaded him.