Below the snow, the radiant body would sleep and allow for a time the silvery body of the moon to have her rise. Patiently waiting, the pair would have their dance, one taking a turn to bring life to the world, whilst the other would sway softly to lull that life to sleep.
It was that dancer she waited for, long after the sun had slipped below, she waited. Her form an autumn rock sat atop the frozen banks, waiting patiently, kindly, for the mistress of night to lull her gently. As she sighed the cool touch of the air would grace her tongue, stirring her listless mind away for a moment and remind her of the reason she had followed the scent of water; she needed to drink. However stubborn her convictions, she would not live for long without the nurturing remedy to her parched, cracking tongue.
Carefully she pushed herself to stand minding the weary creak of her bones, and inched gingerly toward the shores, being mindful of her thread across the ice. She had only just lowered her muzzle to the lapping waters, til a kind wind stirred for her and bring with it another scent. Visibly she stiffened though her ears bent back and her tail bristled at its tip. She did not yet turn but glimpse from the corner of her, until she felt brave enough to bring her crown high and spy just what it was that carried its scent on the wind.
White within white. Pale natural flecks adorning a lupine form standing a comfortable breadth away. |