Hushed Willows The day after the plague

Trick snorted softly in amusement. It's a good perk to have for a pack wolf, I guess. He commented. He wasn't even lying. Weak borders only made it that much harder for the whole pack. But him, a little devious male -with muscle-, patrolling them? Surely that would get the wrong impression of the pack. His small frame could only scare prey, and though he was quite scary, he thought most brutes would walk right past him.

As the female was smoothing her coat, Trick noticed how sloppy he looked after the wild night. An embarrassed facial expression accompanied the droopiness of his ears as he started licking himself too. He had done this many times, hence why his fur was always spotless, and so he was done quite fast. He listened to her and was surprised midnight was her favorite. He had imagined the lady liked midday better. Guess, he couldn't predict everything. He kept his mouth shut though, afraid that if he said it out loud she would pick it up as rude again.

Trick's head followed her movements to the opening of the cave where the sun now lit her already light pelt up. To her question he replied honestly. I prefer dusk, how the day slowly changes into night with a warm orange and pink color. How the sun kisses the earth goodnight to make way for the moon to take over. He got carried away thinking about his nights as a loner, watching the sky at dusk. He would never forget those warm summer evenings.