Hushed Willows blurt

@Leto Amaranthus

The cry of a rabbit whistles through the willows that late morning. Her final squeal, felled to the jaws of a nomadic soul.

As the last breath left the creature, Hiro raised their bloodied jaw. Heafty breaths come out as thick plumes of warm smoke, soon to be evaporated when the sun came to its peak.

Come these next few months, he would not be able to take comfort in flame's proximety, for the cold months approached. It was slow, a crawl for now, but unstoppable.

Hiro shuddered as they collected their kill to be carried elsewhere,