Meadowlark Prairie codeine scene

Synder lifted her head back up, breathed in the quiet air and let out a huff of amuse before bringing herself to the ground next to him, meaning in action.

Just in the field or..?  She toyed, he would have to break to her humour at least once. Dark paws crossed over one-another. A picture of poise. Such a shame to have been vandalized, but little was lost in the face of presentation. 

The snowflakes were thick, soft and slowly falling, far nicer than getting pelted in the face with wind and sleet. This felt like the most serenity Synder could've dreamt of.

 The silence carried no weight, only the lulling embrace of oblivion. Perhaps rebirth. Synder had no beliefs, none beyond the tangible, but for a moment, she understood the pull. Absolution.