Lunette Vuesain
I’ve got my love stuck in my head
Snow fell. It clung to the world like a white blanket, covering everything Lunette had ever known—which, to be fair, wasn't all that much. She was sure Ismena had been everywhere by now (no, okay, not really—), but Lunette herself had refused to pass out of sight of the Lake itself. Ironically, the older she got, the more she stayed close to the den. She was supposed to grow bolder, venture further, follow her parents on hunts more often, maybe even start experimenting with chasing small prey herself.. truly, she had not felt her teeth end the life of another without it being three-quarter dead first. The few times she'd found herself alone and given a snowshoe rabbit a run for its life the uncomfortable surge of adrenaline had left her bothered, and she found herself trying less and less often these days.Snow fell. In the cold and pale winter air the flakes were small and sharp, each perfect, each unique, coming down to form a pattern and merge seamlessly with its kin. Lunette laid underneath one of the fallen trees giving her pack its name, watching the flakes float down with great dignity. The log prevented it from touching her. At first the whiteness had scared her, but now she was used to it, but she still didn't like the feeling of it weighing down on her back. It was just.. strange, but it wasn't going away, and her sigh pooled into the air like a puff of white.
Snow fe—she snapped at the empty air in front of her. Not again. She was tired of making that damn observation, of watching the snowflakes fall and doing nothing, so—rather brusquely for being Lunette—she stormed out from underneath her safe-space log. Her nose twitched as snowflakes fell on it, and her ears flattened, and her tail tucked itself against the inside of one pale hind leg. The frustration which had empowered her leeched out into uncertainty; was this such a good idea at all?
"Kajika," she murmured to herself, her voice light and childish still, even though her frame had grown leaner and taller. Aside from some romps with Ismena as her courage, and a few odd dawn treks on her own around the territory, she hadn't really.. well.. gone anywhere. And no matter how safe and comforting and inviting the den was, part of her was screaming for the world beyond.
So she called his name again, louder this time. "Kajika?"