Sun Mote Copse Miss Smilla Feeling for Snow

When all the routine duties of the early morning such as brief patrol along the borders, meeting and making sure that the other pack members were well-off and hunting in the nearby bog, had been finished, Wraen returned to her hollow, dug herself a comfy nest under the leaves and fell asleep.

Her dreams as of late were jumbled up reflections of, what had happened during the day. Sometimes the events lined up so that they almost made a coherent story, but mostly the storylines alternated in very quick succession, until her mind stopped trying to make any sense with it, leaned back and watched the show.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon. The sun was hidden by a thick blanket of gray clouds and wet, heavy snowflakes alternated with steady and continuous rain-fall. She emerged from her warm bed, stretched and yawned, blinked drowsily and realized that during her sleep, the landscape had changed.

It was no longer dark and gloomy, the whiteness of snow had softened the harsh and cruel colours of autumn, giving the area almost dream-scape qualities. Not yet quite woken up, Wraen lied down again and in quiet solitude watched the snowflakes fall.