Chimera Fields pastel ghost

She had travelled westwards for the remainder of winter, selfishly unimpressed with the mountains and the calibre of those she had met there. They had just been no fun. Dour and stony-faced, just like the land they called home. Plus, the rocks hurt her paws; she missed the feeling of soft grass and the scent of flowers.

So naturally, Pukei was immediately drawn into the wide embrace of a sweeping meadow as soon as she chanced upon it. The morning air was still crisp, but the warm sun was making its presence known and dousing the meadow in a golden, dreamy haze. The girl fell into the welcoming grasses where the first buds of spring were beginning to grow.

She landed on her back with a satisfied huff, before wriggling back and fourth like an upturned beetle, desperate to rid herself of the cold, stale air of the mountains.