cantlos, the first moon · claiming howl

[size=x-small](I think Ogoun, Loa of Fire would suit Ylvex best. ^-^)[/size]
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Blinding lights sifted through the stout needles of the seemly endless pine forests, outlining a dim silhouette belonging to a young she-wolf. All around her the canopy flickered with life: the rustling of squirrels burying large arrays of nuts in store for winter, the cheerful cries of birds, the buzzing and whirling of insects. The lupin's nose twitched with boredom amist all the turmoil unfolding around her, her yellow eyes jumping from object to ordinary object. Picking up a pace of leisure walking to a small sprint, the brown-coated wolf arrived at a crack in the earth: a small spring full of icy waters migrated before her paws, the crystal waves alluring.

After barely a few laps, she stopped mid-timed with her tounge hanging loosely from her muzzle. The forest itself seemed to stop moving: the buzz of bees quieted to nearly a flutter, the birds grew silent and even a hare at the edge of her vision seemed to turn to stone. Ylvex lifted her head up, auditories priked upward. A faint howl can from the west; a howl of summon and of glory. She tensed her muscles, attempting to decode the voice of another creature of her own species, who she had always been tentative to hear.

Rise...bon-doo...to glory...and honour..., the stranger seldomly, yet with vigor, called out. A ripple showered through her veins as sharp yet as warm as the orange licking flames of fire. Suddenly, she was not thirsty nor hungry. Suddenly, she wanted to follow the voice.

She picked up speed, heading towards the howl blindly, not able to foresee what was to come; but, after all, curiousity conquers fear.

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