@Raiden
Upon the sandy beach, she remained still in wait, watching, hoping for some change in the water. The ice was thinner here, she observed, and by the warmth of the sun one would think that the surface would give way to living water. Then the change would occur where the water opened in invitation, beckoning the hungry and curious to tread the shallows to take part in the bounty swimming just within reach of eager paw.
But there was no warm sun...
...only the clouds that hung like a burden overhead shrouding the earth in its cold, oppressive veil.
And of course it would be on the day she chose to attempt fishing. The wanderer was never one for touching water without reason, especially when the grace elicited only chills. Had it been a cool drink that brought her to the shores, her brows might have smoothed with an expression of relaxation. And dare she admit, she might have found contentment lying alone with the earth. But this day, it had been with the desire to feed and the mustered patience to reap the scaly quarry from their home for hours if need be. But the ice here was thick, though light enough that a boldly pressed paw would cause the ice to fall away... and take with it the foolish soul.
If her death would come, she did not want it to be a cold, watery end.
Instead of searching the length of the shores for a weaker section, the pale wolf remained at her favored edge simply staring at its surface. Foolishly, though quietly, willing the surface to break away. |