Water drummed on the earth outside. In the humid warmth of a summer night, Atlas found himself tossing and turning on the tangled limbs of his sisters. He could hear things chirping outside. They called to his ears, and the smell of dusty earth and rain tickled his nose from the entrance to the den.
The wolves of Dead Empress Backwater seemed to be experiencing some great tragedy, one which his young mind did not understand just yet. All Atlas knew was that his parents were not happy and only a few members of the pack were allowed near them now. The sadness felt stifling to Atlas.
The air outside the den was much warmer but right now the cool interior felt overwhelming, cramped. His paws itched to go outside. Atlas picked himself out and stumbled away from the pile he had once made with his sisters. He crawled out the short tunnel to the open space around the den. Droplets of rain fell down on his face. He shook the cold water from his head, but it was unavoidable as he came out fully into the open. Soon the drops began to hang heavy on his fur. Atlas did not mind. He took a deep breath of the summer evening and looked out at the dark trees. He curled his tail around himself as he sat just outside the den's entrance.
(This post was last modified: Jun 24, 2024, 01:03 AM by Atlas.)