Soft come the dragons

All welcome.

The day never truly broke, as the sun didn't so much as peek from its hiding place in the woolly gray clouds. Rain fell, soft and cool, from the gunmetal gray sky, and a soundless wind pushed it sideways in billowing curtains. On the plateau, the wind took on more strength than in the lowlands, rustling the trees—their leaves looked almost black in the dim light—and giving the otherwise gentle rain teeth that bit into the she-wolf's face as she ventured from beneath their shelter.

With eyes narrowed against the onslaught, Koontz ventured around the edge of the plateau, determined to finish her patrol despite the weather. She must mark her territory, else other wolves would surely attempt to trespass, especially considering the deer herd in residence. The yearling's stony face took on an even more serious expression at the thought of other wolves trying to lay claim on her food source. Simultaneously, she squatted and urinated, the pungent odor strong despite the rainfall.

She continued, making a full and tireless circuit of the entire plateau, then came to a stop at the southwestern edge, peering down at the hotspring below. Her whiskers quivered as her icy blue eyes searched for movement in the rain-washed valley below, yet she saw nothing. Still, she stood sentinel there, motionless except for the constant roving of her eyes as she took in her surroundings and memorized the lay of the land which was to be her home.

Eventually, she turned her head to look over one gray shoulder, though she didn't take a step. Koontz wondered where her friend and leader, Ariston, might be at this hour. She licked her chops, then finally sat. She thought also of Ray, her brother, and tried to guess what activities occupied him on this rainy morning. She hoped one or both males would join her, now that her guarding duties were complete. Perhaps the three of them could go on a hunt, tracking the blacktail deer herd that shared this very plateau with them.