Blackbeak Bluff bon temps

@Kaori

Snow had gathered over what would have been rolling green fields and settled there like a blanket. It seemed as though it had housed the earth underneath in a chilling grasp, leaving nothing to the imagination of what could have been. He had left the sound to scout the nearby territory, hoping that he might find something of interest. There was very little aside from the neighboring pack, and he did not dare to venture too close to their borders for fear that he might start a war between the two. So instead he had wandered in the opposite direction and climbed high until he stood on the edge of the bluff and overlooked the sea. To drop would be certain death, but the ghost did not mind the dangers of such a precarious perch.

Moving slowly along the mouth of the bluff, his molten gaze trailed the rocks that were scattered below and the slow lap of the water against the edges of the earth. Birds cried overhead as they fluttered past; their wings beat against the air like soft drums. Kierkegaard listened with swiveling ears as he continued his slow plod. In a short time, he would feel obligated to return to the pack. For now, he enjoyed the breath of freedom.