Sunset Valley the dog days are over

If she could not find a mountain, then the next logical thing to do was to gravitate towards its nearest opposite; or so it seemed that was what Muses wass doing. She returned every evening to the safe little valley, brightly coloured by what little orange, yellow, and brown leaves desperately clung to the trees. The rest provided a technicolor carpet with an excellent crunch, the very kind that the cream furred wolf loved trotting through during the early autumn months. Although the trees were slightly different than the ones back home, it was enough to seem familiar, and to provide her with some comfort. Not everything was alien and terrifying.

The setting sun cast long shadows behind the innumerable trees, the black tendrils reaching out further and further as night approached. Muses found that she was full of energy, eagerly anticipating the temlerature drop that would happen as soon as the sun disappeared beyond the valley walls. Although the dull sense of hunger nagged at her, she ignored it, knowing she would have no luck stalking any prey when every step she made was accompanied by the merry rustle of dry leaves. With a gentle, complacent sigh, she made her way to her favourite little treasure trove. It was nestled some way into the valley, within a little thicket of trees. It was an old area, Muses had decided. A little creek ran along the southern end, while almost dead in the center was a mossy tree stump that made the most comfortable bed. With a sheepish grin, the she-wolf stepped onto the pedestal, and turned about several times before curling herself into a happy little Muses ball.

(@Nassim?)