Open for one or two. Dated 7/28.
The meadow was not lush and green as it ought to be this time of year – it was too early for grasses and sedges to start the fall die off. But the heavy spring rains had given way to unblinking sunshine, and even a desert girl such as herself knew when enough was enough. The forest was parched. Even the meadows were being baked, the dirt beneath her paws hard and dry. The meadow made a raspy, hoarse noise as she pressed through.
If she went west, Crow would eventually (probably) run back into Poke-a-stone Scowl, but she was uninterested in that. Annabird was on the Unstable Mountain, and there was the lake, somewhere around here, that housed her Mama’s bones. It was the bones she’d been thinking about. The heat made her think about home, and home made her think about Mama. She was still mad. She’d meet Kajika, but never went to her mother’s resting spot. Maybe she needed that closure.
The wolf scoffed to herself. Closure. What was she, some kind of flowery pup? Maybe she just needed to see it for herself. That was all.