Blacktail Deer Plateau frozen in timeless aura, a catalyst of colors

Omg you guys, this thread.. <3

Blue. Yes. She was Blue. He watched her, his eyes clinging to her and following her every move like the watchful gaze of a puppy afraid to take his eyes off his mother. She began to sob, and he couldn't understand why. He whined softly, his expression concerned and perplexed. Was she hurt? But she was smiling and laughing too…was that a good thing?

Then the other wolf approached him, dropping to the ground in front of him and locking eyes with him. Atticus returned his stare, and though he saw the other wolf, recognition wasn't quite there. But again, familiarity tickled the back of his consciousness. He knew this wolf, but couldn't place how or who he was. Nevertheless, the newcomer burrowed his face into Atticus's chest and then he too began to laugh and sob. Truly bewildered, Atticus looked down at the back of his new companion's neck, and thoughts began to materialize in his mind that made no sense. "Pencil…" he muttered, his words slow and his voice hoarse. "…Dick?" He didn't understand why he'd said the words, nor what they meant, but for some reason there had been an itching desire to say them. Distant, vague mists of familiarity still hung, gauzy and opaque, over his memory, and it was from that foggy place that those unexpected words had sprung.