Fairspell Meadow Whiplash

For @Qiao

White clouds billowed in the skies overhead. Winds carried them, building in size and darkening in the distance.

On the meadow, Stormchaser raced. The tall grass reached out to him, tickling the hairs at his belly and chest. The scent of wildflowers filled his nose and swam like a perfume in the yearling’s head. In the distance, he could see the mesa that had been claimed by the wolves of Akashingo.

Qiao should be there. Lifting his head, the young wolf called out to her.