A silver sheen catches her attention as she is coasting, on the look-out for an easy meal. The silence of winter is Aniuk's playground; she can listen for the scurrying of mice or watch for fish in the rivers.
A girl's laughter — it is jarring to her sensitive ears.
She pirouettes high in the air and then soundlessly careens overtop where the child is punching in to the blanket of white. Where they have rolled the snow is compacted.
Aniuk knows there is nothing there for the child to catch; she lets out a whistle which pierces the whisper of snowfall, contemplating if she should move on to hunt elsewhere or linger to observe the child.
A girl's laughter — it is jarring to her sensitive ears.
She pirouettes high in the air and then soundlessly careens overtop where the child is punching in to the blanket of white. Where they have rolled the snow is compacted.
Aniuk knows there is nothing there for the child to catch; she lets out a whistle which pierces the whisper of snowfall, contemplating if she should move on to hunt elsewhere or linger to observe the child.
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Messages In This Thread
Fee-lin' hot, hot, hot. - by Lilitu - January 08, 2021, 01:35 PM
RE: Fee-lin' hot, hot, hot. - by Aniuk - January 11, 2021, 07:21 PM
RE: Fee-lin' hot, hot, hot. - by Lilitu - January 16, 2021, 06:30 PM