“We are nearly there.”
Lorenzo hazarded a glance at his companion, straining against the fading light of the evening. Here, along the winding path to the springs, the walls of stone stood tall, their shadows long. Winter meant the sun set early, and in doing so had unleashed an initial wave of darkness on the land prematurely, one which sapped the brighter hues from Norna’s coat to replace them with a cold, steely grey.
In spite of the chill that had settled into his aging bones, Lorenzo pressed onward, undaunted. At this rate, the air around them grew warmer with each breath taken, heralding the arrival of comfort within the cavern. He was eager to return to it, habitual as it had become for him to follow a certain routine each evening.
Inhaling the springs’ vapors to warm his lungs. Soaking to alleviate his aching joints. Grooming the water from his fur so that his pelt remained clean and plush in the cold season.
None of it was as pleasurable as the prospect of hosting company once again, lonesome as he’d been following Tita’s, Abrielle’s, and Maaike’s departures.
“I wonder if it will be as you remember it,” he mused aloud, casting a good-natured smile at the she-wolf from over his shoulder.
Aug 11, 2017 01:54 AM
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