Blackfoot Forest The Bear & The Crow

The red hues of the trees above glistened over mid-lengthen black fur. A quick paced wolf made her way through the terrain with ease as the sun shone over her pelt, reflecting a sharp light. She slid beneath a log, pausing for a bit to figure out what waited ahead. There was nothing much to see, and the bright colors threw her off ever so slightly. She let out an aggravated huff.

It was no secret that she wasn’t all that fond of autumn. Dried leaves cling to her fur and crumbled, making them impossible to remove. Just the thought was enough to cause a ripple down her spine as she skipped from boulder-to-boulder down the path-way.

Inaira was on the search for something to eat. With this weather, the smaller woodland creatures were preparing for hibernation. Perhaps she could snag a plump squirrel or two. Maybe even a hare — if she was lucky.

Whatever the case, there was one thing she wasn’t absolutely dead-set on. What was that, you ask? Never letting a slimy frog brush against her muzzle ever again. No matter how hungry, she simply wouldn’t allow it. Never.

@Cole