Horizon Ridge The twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn

A solid week of rest and restricted movement did a body good. For the first time since the attack, Pied woke and felt up to moving around a little bit. She gingerly pushed herself upright, then even more slowly climbed to her feet. She kept weight off her broken hind paw and hobbled around the lair's interior in a simple effort to stretch her legs. Breathing still hurt slightly—every time her lungs inflated, her broken ribs twinged with pain—and her whole body felt rather battered and sore. Her shoulder and hipbone didn't bother her nearly as much as before, though, and Pied took that as a very good sign.

When circling the den didn't leave her writhing in agony, the Gamma poked her head out of the entrance, then ever so gently climbed out into the open. The cold, fresh air felt wonderful on her face and she began to suck in a deep breath, only to wince when her tender rib cage protested. She almost retreated back into the lair but Pied pushed herself, limping forward a few steps and dropping to her haunches near the cliff's edge.

She sighed softly as her two-toned eyes gazed out over the wintry sea. Pied realized it would be a long time before she wandered the beach again. The thought of going anywhere near the water's edge sent a little shudder through her, which made her body ache. The attack had forever blighted her love of the seaside.

The Gamma didn't want to dwell on these matters, though. Her eyes drifted to the gray sky and she wondered if it would start to rain, as it was a little too warm for snow. She hoped the inclement weather would not prevent her pack mates from venturing out today, as Pied desperately missed their fellowship. She loved Kisu's company and was grateful that the Alpha dropped by on occasion, yet Pied missed the rest of the pack—yes, even Jinx.