King Elk Forest a journey (a dream of flight)

Darkness lurked just beyond the sunset and it carried with it the promise of night. Stars had already started to speck the sky and the moon hung against a fading blue to look down at him. 

The wandering crow. 

The shadow of a wolf slunk through the forest. He sniffed at each shrub with a twitch of his whiskers. 

It did not appear that Crowfeather had eaten in some time. His ribs had begun to show through the sheen in his dark fur coat. The dull yellow of his eyes were more sunken, sullen. 

He knew he would need to bed for the night. 

The forest chirped to life - crickets or cicadas - and an owl hooted ominously from its perch. The wolf paused and breathed a single labored breath into the trees.