Silvertip Mountain Tell Me What The Rain Knows

On an evening stroll, something had led the grey wolf astray. A lone bird's song had entranced him, drew him to the base of a tree to listen. More birds began to join, and before long he too found himself humming along with them. Even swaying his head a bit, his tail thumping to the rhythm. He loved songbirds, especially in the morning. He would wake up almost every day to hear them. Either that, or plain silence. Or rain.

Chaska closed his eyes so that there would be no distractions, only the sound of the birds, and the wind that carried their music. To some others, it may have seemed like them just chirping random tunes. But to him, there was wonder in their song. A calmness washed over him as he continued to hum in tune.