Hushed Willows Late At Night — You’ll Find Me Creeping

Setting: Night — 01:17. 60 degrees — cloudy, medium to heavy rain, slightly foggy, humid.

Donovan has been wandering these new and stranger lands for almost a month now. He’s made Ranvensblood Forest his new home for himself and hopefully his future pack, yet he always finds himself restless. A voice in the back of his mind that plays his muscles like a puppet to urge him to explore and wander further and further from his newly claimed (but not so claimed) territory. 

Even on a night such as this, he doesn’t let himself sit idly by to do nothing. Tonight he finds himself slinking through the Hushed Willows soaking wet and dripping with rain water. It has already seeped through his coat, causing his curled tail to hang sadly on his hips, the appendage heavy with the fresh water that falls from the sky and drips down the canopy of spindly, loose vines of the willow trees that surround him. His massive body urges him forward, heavy paws splash and thump onto the ground beneath. His thick head is level with the strong line of his back as he wanders aimlessly. Almost as if he’s possessed, or maybe he’s just in his feels tonight — who knows. As of right now he has no goal in mind, no location he desires to meet. Only the sound of the rushing rain is here to meet him, besides that the Hushed Willows are just that — hushed.