Another heavy snow fall. How fun. Ironic how a Snowcap wolf could hate the snow so much but that's how Icicle was. The snow was the bane of his existence. He wished he lived with Sunburst or Shoreline, but here he was stuck in this frozen desert unable to hunt because the snow would cover the tracks and scent of any potential prey out there.
Worst part is, he wasn't even near the camp when the snow started. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to better see what was ahead of him but failed. "Fuck, I hope I'm going the right direction." He probably wasn't but he really wanted to get back to the pack camp, where he could curl up in a den with other wolves and stay warm. "Fuck fuck fuck..." Icicle continued cursing as he trudged on. If he didn't find shelter soon he would really be an icicle. "The irony of that."
On and on and on he went, a grey speck in a world of white. He glared forward, hoping to see the camp soon, but the snow was too thick. Wolves and other animals often died in blizzards like this; he didn't want to join the throngs who fell victim to the storms.
What luck! Icicle wouldn't be dying today! A small cave came into his limited field of vision and he squeezed into the small opening, much to the chagrin of some lemmings. "Food!" He killed off whatever lemmings possible that were unable to escape and ate a couple, the warm meat settling in his cold stomach. He would survive this storm.
YOU ARE READING
Wolf's Heart
FantasyHeartpaw is a land ruled by wolves. Seven packs, seven territories, seven alphas. There are mini packs of course and lone wolves, but no other pack or wolf is as significant as the seven. Some say the alphas are chosen by the wolf deities themselves...
