Fairspell Meadow The proof of fate that has been given to me

It was in the early evening that his large paws trailed away from the gory borders of Blackfeather, ashen tail waving behind him and tapping gently on his hind legs as he padded across the meadow. He liked this time, when the moon was becoming visible in the darkening sky, and the air was cool and sweet. Despite how much he liked the woods in which his home lay, there was an instinctive urge to wander sometimes. 

The Reaper stalked through the snow that topped the grass and froze all that was unfortunate enough to fall under it. A body, he came across, at one point - the corpse of a rabbit, stiff from the cold and icy to the touch as he sniffed at it. It looked impossible to eat, and although he was tempted to try and warm the thing he decided it was most likely a fruitless idea.

So instead he continued his prowl across the land and felt a spark of amusement at the body of that rabbit - it had clearly spent too long in the open, or perhaps had been wounded and was unable to escape into the safety of its burrow. Shame, he giggled darkly inside his head. It made his thoughts drift back to the furious mother he had taken not only the tail of, but also part of the ear - now that, that was even funnier. She had attacked him in a fit of rage for she had known his pack was the one to steal her son but she had been too weak and sickened to fight him. It had been easy to take her down.

His icy gaze fell upon the sky once more as he continued to walk - the night was his favourite time, and even if the night he spoke of was not yet fully upon them, darkness was already coating the sky - after all, he had come to notice how the sky darkened quicker during the Winter.