Chimera Fields Wasting Time on Love That Wasn't Real

The young gentleman found himself amongst a vast expanse of wildflowers. They were still bright with color despite the late time of the season, and they swirled with the force of the wind as Wicken wound their way through. A dark figure amongst a sea of colors. The days had been long, but they had also been fruitful in all the endeavors he pursued. There was a calmness that settled in his chest from the wind lightly coaxing him forward as he continued. 

His lithe form had filled out considerably. Wicken could feel the power behind his movements now, and his fluidity had become smoother. The injuries that were once sported had finally healed into scars that were mostly covered by fur. The spring had brought a plentiful amount of hunting with it, and they found themselves in search of the next meal to upkeep the new found strength. He was not picky in his hunts, or rather, he was a beggar that could not afford to hand pick where his nutrition came from. The prey here was thriving, and the young wolf weaved their way through the patches of flowers to flush an unsuspecting meal from its burrow.