Witch's Marsh a dancing dream of all eternity

@Ibis 

Much of Maiira’s life lately had been constant travel, mostly trying to outrun—or outsmart—whatever was going on with the Earth. The Mother was angry, or perhaps dying—a terrifying thought—and there were upheavals everywhere. Maiira thought the timing of all of this couldn’t have been more perfect, considering that Samhain had just ended a week ago. Perhaps the Mother would calm down again soon? She hoped, anyway. Maiira loved a good scare and a good shake up, probably more than your average person, but when it was happening continuously it could be exhausting. She’d be happy to settle down soon.

She wandered the marsh happily, leaping lightly over pools of water and listening to the night sounds of crickets and frogs. There was a faint smell of other wolves around, like a small group of them, and she wondered if she was trespassing. A wicked grin tore at her face, fangs gleaming in the night. She tilted her head back and let out the yipping howl of a coyote. Let some angry cousin wolf come and tell her to leave. She was feeling feisty tonight.