Shadewood let me be sad

Early morning, 9°C, Cool breeze. Music inspiration. All welcome.

Ansgar's alabaster coat was dirty and damp, streaks of mud soiled his pelt and blood stained his whiskers — but he didn't care.

He didn't feel a thing. He was numb. 

His eyes burned, painfully dry from all the tears he had wept whilst burying Bjarte. He had spent all night digging his grave. He had picked the earth right beneath a great old oak tree. It was fitting, he thought, that the wise old male should be laid to rest beneath the bows of an ancient oak, its branches weathered and worn but steadfast amongst the other trees which towered around it. 

Ansgar's deep mahogany gaze drifted up from the freshly disturbed earth and focused on the leaves which danced above him in the early morning breeze. The leaves were still wet, still shaking off the last droplets of water that had gathered there during the previous night's rainfall. 

The young wolf gave a thorough shake of his own pelt, sending specks of dirt crashing against the trees which inhabited the quiet woodland. It was time for him to move on. Nothing would come of him lingering by a dead wolf's grave. Exhaling a long, trembling breath, he gave one last glance to the soft mound of fresh soil and began to walk away.

The sound of a weighted breath spurred his attention to drift from the winding path ahead, towards the copse of old growth trees. Among the corridors there between the oaks he thought he spied a body. The man paused then, he lingered within sight of the stranger and watched as they moseyed away from a plot of freshly moved earth, which made Asa wonder. If he had mistakenly crossed in to claimed territory it must have been miles back, as there had not been any trace of wolves around him for days, at least. He sniffed the air to make sure - but already the stranger was moving on an intercept course towards his intended route; clearly they had not spotted him. Asa was a large fellow but in these circumstances he blended in well with the forest, and besides, the man looked... Lost.

He was not sure if an interruption would be welcome, so he waited until the figure had moved along a bit before resuming his own careful strides. It was difficult for anyone to remain soundless in a forest such as this. Asa would not try too hard normally, but with the image of the ghostly stranger etched in to his mind, he did not wish to be disruptive and became cautious with his movements. Until, of course, the inevitable miss-step caused him to trip himself on a particularly long branch, snapping it in half. The sound launched itself through the woods and all that Asa could do was wince, glancing every which way for signs of a possible ambush, just in case.