Silvertip Mountain You may feel a slight sawing

Olive stirred underneath the overhang of her fir tree, stretching her thin legs away from her body as she rose from a sedentary nap. It did not surprised Olive that a pack used to called this powerful mountain ‘home.’ For her first day here, Olive concealed herself within shadows and stayed downwind to avoid any confrontations with returning wolves - but as sun's pattern of rising and setting signaled the passage of time, Olive became more brazen in her residence of this particular alcove and dominion over this one, particular fir tree. It was a calm place and reminded her of home - soothing  and comfortable. So much so, in fact, that the femme had spent her last few days singing, yipping and dancing to an upbeat song that played only in her head. 

Her existence over the past few months has been nomadic, yet calm and tranquil. Often times, it was difficult to remember how much time had passed since she left the confines of her small pack and to forsake the close family ties. On the days when she felt renewed an adventurous (plentiful as they were), Olive could almost hear her mother’s coo in her ear. On days when Olive went to sleep hungry and ungrounded, it felt like she had last seen her family a lifetime ago. Though Olive was young and had none of burdens that kept her mother, father and siblings tied to one place, she often felt sadden for voluntarily leaving her already dwindling pack. However, Olive knew in her soul it had been time for her to write her own story. 

Yes, the past few months the universe had shined good fortune down upon Olive, but she was receiving shifting signs. Cold winds were blowing in from the north and the tall pines shuddered and creaked as they internally prepared for the impending winter. For now it was autumn and the hunting was still plentiful - but father winter makes quick work of lonesome wolves. Though she had left home to become a student of the earth, Olive did not to intend to be a victim of the earth.

Olive’s drowsy mind immediately snapped to attention as her senses tuned to something new, something different - another wolf. As she pushed herself to her feet, Olive’s gaze drifted across the landscape until it fell upon a large white wolf in the distance. “I wonder if she used to be part of the old pack that lived here,” Olive thought. Even her internal thoughts hushed as the strangers moved ever closer. Olive crept aside so that the trunk of her fir tree concealed her from the other wolf’s sight. If they were to meet, Olive wanted it to be on her terms.