February 13th; Early Afternoon; Clear Sky; -18.4 ° F, -28 ° C.
Spring was on the rise. Sawyer could feel it in his bones. Though, this year, he felt was going to be different. Not only was he mentally maturing, he could feel his limbs start to itch and his senses hone further. He was getting better at tracking and, while he had a thought to venture further into the forests in the east, he traced after a week-old trail Levi had left instead.
Out along the sun-beaten grasses, broken and dried from the cold winter winds, his eyes scoured the iced-over marsh. His stomach had been content with raven-picked leftovers and whatever scraps he and Levi could muster up, but he wondered if today might gift him something a little extra. Mice had been a favorite snack back at home.
He prowled on uneven but steady feet amidst the broken trees with submerged roots. Ears forward, nose twitching, tail level with his spine. Even a pair of slimy frog legs would do at this point. Maybe it would make a decent prize to bring back to Levi.
you musn't be afraid
to dream a little bigger, darling
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
to dream a little bigger, darling
⟡ ⟡ ⟡