Forever Luna

Visit

noun ~ an act of going or coming to see a person or place socially
CHARLIE

Fucking snow.

I loved it back home, but I suppose that was because I had a home to hide from it. Despite the thick double coat I had, the iciness sank into my damn bones.

I didn't enjoy getting unnecessarily wet.

But I was getting closer.

I followed the whisper of campfire stories and trailed the kill streak akin to a newly shifted beast. Calida started killing for fun and left the barely broken carcasses to rot in her wake.

Thankfully, her direction had turned southern. The past few weeks in solitude had been harder than I expected. I was battling my wolf at every corner. He threatened to come out and take over. He was unhappy with the pace I was setting, despite the necessity of it.

Calida had to know I was coming for her. The moment I even grew close, she was running in another direction or jumping in a stream. It was disheartening, but I would not leave her. I should get the hint, I know, but just being near her made everything feel so much better.

Besides, she's a wolf. She's not Calida.

And I had to be there when my Calida came back to me.

Because she will. There were no ifs about it.

Even if I have to trudge through fifty more of these damn snowy winters. And even then, I'd just encourage her to move south when the snow falls.

Like we were now. It was a bit later than I'd prefer, but warmth was coming, and I was holding onto that anticipation.

Snow was inches deep and sticking to the fur on my ankles. I would look like a pretty big idiot if I was to shake it off every step, but guess what? That's what I did.

Whoever says they like snow needs to get their brain looked at. It's not normal. It's cold, and wet, and sticky. Then it turns to slush and hardens again and turns to ice and then you break your fucking paw, trying to walk on it. Not to mention every rabbit and his cousin were burrowed underground, away from any predators.

Bet it's nice and warm in there, though.

I grumbled as my next step sent me shooting down a small hill. I sank in the snow to my elbows instantly, frustrated. I bared my teeth for good measure, making sure the snow knew who exactly was in charge.

But it wasn't me.

I was so going to write a story about this. There would be an entire chapter dedicated to my hatred for snow. I'd even make some damn fan art for the pages.

It was harder to tell what time of day it was when it was snowy. The grey clouds cast over the entire expanse of the sky, which made tracking the sun harder. It would glimmer through cracks in the clouds, and that was the only way I knew which direction I was going in.

South.

Warmth.

Sweet, glorious, dry dirt.

And Calida.

Both things were just as good as each other.

My paws dragged across the ground, my head hung low as I walked. Hours and hours, days and days of walking have tired my mind, but I have never felt so in shape. I think my stamina was the best in the world.

My terrain eventually changed. And the inches of snow grew sparser until I was walking on solid ground once more. Relief washed over me, grateful that my none stop walking had paid off. It was better than sprinting and wasting all of my energy, that was for sure.