Fairspell Meadow the twice-invoked

@Qiao

Leshen slunk, slithered, and skittered his way back into the wilds of his birth.

He maintained a low prowl until he came upon a stretch of land that offered no cover at all. A meadow in the clutches of winter — no trees nor shelter to speak of. The raider turned his carmine gaze to and fro, finding nothing of note, before loping into the bracing openness at a steady clip. His head and ears turned about as if on swivels; an air of caution plaguing his every move.

It would be dark here soon, and the snow had started again, coming down with mesmerizing frailty, featherlight and slow. Each flake would melt quickly after settling upon the hollow wolf’s spine. Still, his skin twitched at nearly every drop.