Bramblepoint these scars long have yearned for your tender caress

Semira lazily opened her soft Amber eyes as she awoke from her light nap. The remains of a carcass lay beside her lithe form. Her mind wanders to the chase hours before. Fun. The simple word reasonated through her brain as she ran her tongue across the dried blood on her maw.

The wolf slowly lifted her bulk up off of the soft moss. She arched her spine, stretching her weathered paws out in front of her. She glanced over to the remains of her kill. A waste. She sighs, silently slipping forwards out of the she had lain within.

She softly padded through the fresh powder, lifting her snout to breathe in the gentle breeze. Other wolves? She chuffs and shakes her large cranium, scenting the wind again. Definently. She follows the scents apprehensively, her amber optics searching the land for her kind. So lonely. Her mind whispers. After all this time, perhaps my own voice will seem unrecognizanble to me. She shivers, but not with the winter breeze that shifts through her red creamy pelt. Her stride pauses. Stop hesitating! She corrects herself, heading onwards towards the others.