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The days were starting to grow cold, the young wolf had noticed that, but that did not mean it was dark. Not just yet. There was still the odd day where the Wintersun was low in the sky projecting as much warmth as it could onto the dew tipped earth. With his winter coat it was perfect basking weather and where better to bask than by a lake. He had travelled a long way to find the perfect spot. Lands like this reminded him of home.
Idoly yawning he picked out a place that was close enough to watch the wildlife flit across the surface of the water, but not close enough to disturb it or make it move. Contrary to popular belief wolves did not always hunt. Much of the time Smoke himself preferred simply to watch the world around him, the way it worked and understand everything around him. Plus the way the birds sometimes ran across the ground made him giggle to himself.
Closing his eyes for a moment he started to doz, this time in a dreamless, light sleep, enjoying the comfort and the quiet around him. Lazily he opened one eye then closing it again tried to pick out individual sounds in the din at the busy lake. A frog croaking, a bird singing, the water ripping close-by at the waters edge.
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