Bucky had taken his morning run along the beach, looped over the edge of the range and come back to the savanna. Panting heavily, the burly black male, looking even larger thanks to his ridiculously thick winter coat, slowed to a walk and began to stride along the borders, lifting his leg at regular intervals. The Rangers were doing well, but there were new members and guests alike and he wanted to make sure the territory stayed well-marked.
He flexed his shoulders in delight when the sun came out from the clouds. This was a promising way to begin winter for a wolf who spent more than his fair share of time worrying about the weather. He jumped onto a fallen tree trunk, strode (carefully) along it and paused to mark in the middle. Up the end where leaves had sprouted when the tree had still been alive - it was one of many torn down by the cyclone the previous year - he paused, breathing in deeply as he braced his front paws on a branch.
It was so rare that Bucky ever just… stopped and felt the sun on his fur.
Jun 07, 2018 07:44 PM
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