Bramblepoint caught in the middle

Menta's black lips reached delicately for the treat in front of her but the red raspberry smushed and squirted at the first touch, dribbling a bit of its dye onto her cream chin. The wolf gave a small grin as she licked her chops, able to enjoy what she had actually gotten into her mouth, and moved onto some of its many neighbors. Thorns tugged at her side a bit as she strained up and forward but even her shedding summer coat seemed to protect her from noticing very much.

She had stopped here rather intentionally, her regular trip of aimless exploration turning into one of surprised delight. Menta knew that berries couldn't offer too much sustenance - not that she would have been picky as a lone wolf - but she knew from her childhood that these sweet treats were too much to pass up. The cream wolf had confidently made her way into the thick of it, knowing that the best was often hidden where even the birds and smaller critters refused to go, and was merrily reaping her reward. Tail wagged behind her, a flag that increasingly caught more and more sticking thorns.