Redsand Canyon to ever shelter your will

the wolf skulked across the leading edge of a narrow abuttment until its termination point against a craggy hill; the knotwork of low-growing shrubbery prevented them from going further, and rather than put forth the effort to find a path through, the stain reversed. better to find an easy path. they were not built for mountaineering — not with those long limbs and tucked runner's belly. it did not matter how fleet of foot the spider was, she had to reverse her course. in the process of finding another route she took note of the silence which dawned in the wood; the birds taking wing, the hush, the tense stillness. her snout wrinkles as she breathes deeply the foreign air — and there, finds traces of the living.