Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

Loathe as he was to disturb another’s peace, Winter’s Wake did not presently realize that he was approaching the temporary bed of an unfamiliar wolf.

He moved in a predatory slink, quiet himself as he touted his latest catch: a plump raccoon that had feasted to excess on this land’s autumnal bounty. The rouge hunted for the perfect spot in which to bask while enjoying his dinner. The atmosphere had turned sharper as the sun continued to sink towards the horizon, and the wind trickled through the trees in a cold hush. It was well sheltered here, and the swaying willows provided a soft, almost musical ambiance that seemed unique to this area.

Because of his fresh quarry between his jaws, he could not smell the resting wolf ahead of him. He would practically tread on them if they did not notice him coming from around their chosen tree…