Wapun Meadow water become wine

for @Kacia

the meadow is bright emerald and blanketed by the vibrant multi-colored petals of the wildflowers that have begun to bloom with the season of bearing upon them. wintersbane doesn't stray awful far from the sawtooth; keeping a keen eye upon its towering spire but confident that wylla and mahler will keep an eye on astraeus for him while he surveys the land below. in truth, sawtooth is self-sustaining which is good for the hardy wolves that call it home but the stretch of his legs upon flatland ( unburdened by the intoxicating perfume of women in their season twice with which he gotten drunk off ) is a nice break. to the distant is a small herd of pronghorns grazing blissful and ignorant but wintersbane turns blind glacial eye to them. he is not hungry, though he mentally marks their strong presence in this place all the same. the sunlight is warm and relentless upon his back and on an impulse, seeks shelter from it in the shade of the black cottonwoods.