Sun Mote Copse Time to make one last appeal for the life I live

The smell of fresh game led her due east, amber eyes squinted against the glare of the early morning sun as she trailed across the winter landscape. She bypassed an offshoot of Grouse Thicket and came upon a frozen stream threading toward the south. Her prey's scent faded at the water's icy edge. Wildfire crossed, keeping her nose close to the snowy ground as she wove to and fro across the opposite bank. She did not pick it up again and drew up with a snort, wondering what to do now.

She took in her surroundings, spinning in a slow circle, eyes sweeping the frozen swamp to the north and the frostbitten bog to the south. Neither appealed, particularly this time of year, so she decided to venture ahead into the woods. The trees offered some relief from the relentless December sunlight as Wildfire felt an old, familiar itch in her feet. She smiled wanly and moved slowly through the wintry woodland.

Soon the mountain at its far edge blocked the sun entirely and Wildfire paused to study it through the bare treetops. Her ears bent forward toward the faint sound of running water, which was a little unexpected given the temperature. Perhaps there were runoffs in the foothills. Better yet... as she continued deeper and deeper into the forest, she found herself arriving at the edge of a partially frozen river winding along the foot of the mountain.

She dropped her head to take a drink, which hit her like a punch to the gut. Swiveling, Wildfire began to backtrack, though she didn't head home just yet. Somewhere near the heart of the forest, she found a log and hopped atop it. Although she nearly slipped, she managed to maintain her balance and settle on her belly. From her vantage point, she scanned the copse with her senses, though they eventually dulled as the she-wolf became lost in her thoughts.