The moon rises big and red above the trees, and below pads a wolf through the ice-crusted mire. Her ribs are showing, the bones of her face hollowed and gaunt with hunger. Winter is a time of plentiful prey for her kind, and yet the girl - recently dispersed - is having rotten luck finding anything larger than a toad.
One paw after the other, she stalks to where the croaking of amphibians grows louder. Her time in the marshes of her old home has made her an adequate hunter and starvation drives her quickly onwards. And she spies them then, through the darkness of old trees. She spies the bubbles on the surface of pitch water, the glint of shiny eyes, and surges forward with teeth outstretched.
The blood moon bathes her in ghostly light as the meal is tossed, caught, and disappears swiftly down her gullet.
One paw after the other, she stalks to where the croaking of amphibians grows louder. Her time in the marshes of her old home has made her an adequate hunter and starvation drives her quickly onwards. And she spies them then, through the darkness of old trees. She spies the bubbles on the surface of pitch water, the glint of shiny eyes, and surges forward with teeth outstretched.
The blood moon bathes her in ghostly light as the meal is tossed, caught, and disappears swiftly down her gullet.
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natanek - by Steltella - March 14, 2025, 03:30 PM
RE: natanek - by Sprite - March 21, 2025, 01:29 PM