Bearclaw Valley follow me into the golden wild

you will see.

vague, but she trailed after him. he spoke as if he was trying to make her enjoy it. like he didn't think she did. it would be an untrue assumption—twitch had great admiration for the land. she always would.[/color]

the snow was retreating in patches, giving way to brittle grass and splashes of dull green. it smelled… damp. like thawing earth and new growth. "yeah, smells like dirt," she muttered to herself with a huff, half under her breath.

she didn’t quite trust where this was going. she didn't like that he was being vague, nor did she like that he was being pretentious. he beckoned her uphill, and she eyed the path hesitantly before begrudgingly hauling herself up the incline. “this better not be some weird pack initiation,” she grumbled as she climbed, muttering mostly to herself. “like, ‘haha, let’s see if the new girl eats shit on a mountainside.’ real funny.”

by the time she crested the top, though—oh. her paws stilled. the air was thinner. cooler. clearer. and the view—gods. the entire valley sprawled out beneath her like something out of a storybook. rivers carved like silver veins through fields of green, speckled with the first breath of spring flowers. it goes without saying that it is pretty.

her mouth parted like she might say something, but nothing came out. it lasts for all of ten seconds before he ruined it.

her fur bristled at the implication. she wasn't some miserable whelp—she was fine. she always was, even if that was all she was. "didn't think i was. i'm always like this." the truth, unfettered. a majority of her adolescence was spent like this; it wasn't like she had many aspirations that gave her motivation for much more. being listless was her lifestyle.