Morningside Cuesta On The Edge

@Grayday

Adrastos sat at the top of Morningside Cuesta, only a few inches from the edge, with one paw hanging over. This seemed to be some sort of metaphor for his life. Adrastos was always on the edge of something. Be it the edge of danger, the edge of life and death, the edge of a fight or the edge of love. He had lived all seven of his years always treading on thin ice, or narrow cliff sides.

A warm spring breeze plucked at his slate grey fur with caressing fingers, causing the slightly longer hair on his neck and part of his back to sway and undulate like grass on a plain. His ragged ears twitched to the side or behind him, catching every nuance of sound in the area. Though it looked like the wolf was lost in thought, gazing over the edge of the cliff, Adrastos was very much alert. He hadn't survived this long by not being aware of his surroundings. 

Today was a beautiful day with the sun playing peek-a-boo with the big, fluffy clouds. Adrastos had been enjoying exploring this new land and had unexpectdly almost wandered over the edge of the cliff here. It was very decieving landscape. After the slight heart attack it had given him (though he would never admit it), he decided to rest here for a moment.