UNSPOKEN

14

The wind howl like it was echoing a call. It touches your hoof, swirling up to your waving fur and to your pointed ears, it haul. It was half boiling and half not. You couldn't even tell now. Funny, when it was always your place. You shook your head but your eyes were blinking lights. You take another step. The sand drifted your one hoof and the other as you walk.

Move continues, questions forming, senses retreating. Your sight shocked by the beam above. Seems you were walking on the same path all over again. It never ends. Wasting time crossing at the land that only lends. Hazing. Fogging. A strong wind was building. Your eyetooth showed something and at last a sightseer came in.

-The Lone Wolf