Meadowlark Prairie to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own

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On an early spring day that had the skies warmer than they'd been in months, Grievous contemplated his mortality. Truly, it was more like anticipatory dread; for the weeks to come that would slowly and painfully draw the season ever closer to the intolerable summer months. He thought he might rather die before facing another few months of being completely drained by the glaring sun... But in remembering the sweet freeze of winter, and the exhilarating need to keep one's blood pumping, he thought he might like to see at least one more cold front before he gave his bones to the soil.

The only upside to the end of winter was the flood of new prey. He had already put on several pounds, and would gain about twenty more before the end of spring, but more than he was glad to have a full belly, he wanted desperately to cling to his winter friskiness.

It was with this in mind that he tread the cool flatlands for a lone playmate. Much to his chagrin, he had skirted one pack only to find that he was approaching another. Adjusting his direction northbound, he sought to avoid trouble— as running into an entire pack hardly ever bode well for a wolf of his competitive calibur— but kept his xanthous eyes open for the kind of company he desired.

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