locked in perpetual motion

<style type="text/css">.ame {margin:auto; width:530px; text-align:justify;font-size:11px;} .ame q {color:#7a2638; font-family:georgia;font-weight:bold;letter-spacing:1.3px;} .ame p {margin:0px;text-indent:30px;}</style>

Distant thunder rumbled and the heavy, humid air was charged with the subtle thrum of electricity. Amekaze had no qualms, and lifted her muzzle high to breath deep the mountain air. She liked it this way.

She descended from a rocky outcropping and jogged languidly down the slopes -- the slopes of The Sunspire, their claim. As new and fresh as it was, there was still plenty to accomplish, but Amekaze had found she had fallen into stride so far.

So now, she would need to achieve balance. Purpose would soon follow, or perhaps the other way around. She would need to see. Already she intended to chronicle the history of the young pack, as she had been here since its creation and even a little before. That much would be easy. Her interests were also in the pack's offensive front, which was assuming they would need one (because they would, whether they liked it or not). She had grown up in a world embroiled in battle, been born just to be their offensive front, so it only felt natural to assume the role here... in a way, at least.

Yet now, it was just an interest in a good old brawl that she could feel tickling her skin. Perhaps one in celebration, as they had once done back home so many months ago.

A fine mist of rain began to fall. She remained unhindered, alertly skimming the landscapes at her disposal as she trotted.