Sun Mote Copse As if some magic, like a staff found a burning bush

@Njord @Meerkat

The golden dust motes had led her here, carried from the Copse on a breeze to drift lazily through the forest. Auburn had skirted the bog by going around it to the right, staying inside Cedar Sweep--though she did not know its name. Now she stood at the northern edge of the Copse eyeing the golden motes floating through the air. The closer she'd come to this place, the more gold dust there had been. Of course it had to have led her to a pack.

She'd run away from home a few moons before, though she was barely a year old. She'd gotten tired of the bullying, the way the others ignored her because she was small and weak and cried when she was forced to bring down prey. She hated the smell and taste of blood, which was a very difficult thing for a wolf. Running away had been hard; she'd nearly starved to death despite the spring's abundance of prey. She did not know how to hunt by herself, and the thought of it turned her stomach. She'd gotten by on berries and carrion and now she stood at the edge of the Copse, emaciated and exhausted.

She knew she must join this pack, or find another soon, or she would die. But what would they do when she told them she could not hunt or she would break into awful shivers and forget where she was? She looked up at the sky, watched the gold dust glint in the light of a noonday sun, and thought surely that it had led her here for a reason. Apprehensively, ears pulled back along her skull, she howled, and the strength of her voice sounded strange to her ears; she had been quiet and on her own for months.