About an hour before sunrise, Overcast, 19C/66F
Viorel knew that night was beginning to fade into morning. The moon was so low over the trees that you couldn’t see it anymore, that brief period of time when there was no moon and no sun. Only the stars as they began to fade into an ever brightening sky. He knew that he should be heading back towards the pack and probably should be already well within the borders. All of these things he knew, logically. But, he couldn’t go back yet. After a week of being plagued by the same haunting dream, he couldn’t go home without some answers.
The leader did not even know why he had come back to these woods, the same ones that he had found Clover in all those months ago. It had given him the creeps then, like someone was watching, and so it was the only place he could think of might have answers for those eerie, yet somehow familiar, blue eyes. He couldn’t remember exactly the way back to where he had found Clover, and had ended up somewhere completely different.
At first he thought it was a mirage brought on by exhaustion. The lake that almost seemed to appear out of thin air at the base of the mountain, the white shores that left his paws coated as if it were snow but wasn’t cold. It was almost as if the world had gone still, other than the ripples of the water that spoke of a healthy population of fish in the depths.
Viorel stood perfectly still. His yellow eyes swept over the sight, looking for some kind of clue, some kind of solution to the recurring dream. Who did he know with blue eyes like that?