george's cherry tree

A smudgy white wolf stood back and surveyed the newly excavated den at the base of a cherry tree, its winding roots providing a natural skeleton for the frame of her suited creation. It had taken hours, but it would suit her nicely for the next few days, possibly weeks if she thought to stay that long. Though the open, flat, and pretty Orchard was probably not the most tactical area that Paramount could have chosen to live, she did find that she liked the smell. It made her want to stay a while.

There was a sectile root jutting uncouthly from the den's entrance, her last task, and she wrestled with it in her teeth for a moment before it snapped and she tossed it amongst the piles of dirt and debris she'd created making a temporary shelter for herself. It wouldn't be at all suitable in the rain, but she wasn't the type to mind a storm; eying the dark clouds above with little regard.

Satisfied, the female sighed and turned, trekking shortly to a stream she'd passed not far back—the nearby stream was the main reason she'd chosen this particular spot anyway—and she smiled when she came across it again. Green eyes scoured for company before she stepped into the water for a cool drink, but more importantly to let the current wash away the caked-up grime on her paws and fur.

(This post was last modified: Sep 30, 2013, 06:32 AM by Paramount.)