<font color="white">^. A Wanderer's Salute to His Past .^</font> -- Tree House Garden

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Date Posted: 15:36:15 05/11/03 Sun
Author: Ispan
Subject: ^. A Wanderer's Salute to His Past .^
In reply to: Ispan 's message, "^. A Wanderer's Salute to His Past .^" on 07:49:43 05/06/03 Tue

A trickle of dust finds its way to the narrow passage of the sleeper's nostrils, edging around the protective barrier so that it may be pulled further within. A few seconds later the sleeper is rudely roused from his vague dreams by a sneeze that causes his head to jump right off the ground and a few inches into the air. Before his mind can have a chance to register what had awoken him or that he is even wake, he has sprung to his paws, his muscles tense and his glance sharp as it sifts through the scenery that joyously greets him.

Ispan relaxes after a minute of stillness, shifting his weight gracefully to his haunches as he once again, with a slightly more relaxed air, surveys the area. Silent. Silent, that is, except for the rustling of the leaves, the quiet chirruping of insects, and the occasional sporadic burst of song from the birds. There is no sign of any of his kind. The loneliness that is lodged so firmly in his heart seems to stir with renewed sorrow, and he echoes it with a soft sigh. He had been with his kind for only an instant in time, and that instant had passed so quickly. He can still remember, though, her sad, beautiful face. Silver Mist, his friend and successor, had looked almost as troubled as he.

His glance turns to the sky, his gaze chasing the steady and untroubled rays of the sun. He had seen her once before that, and had even exchanged words. He smiles slightly. Ah, yes. She had mentioned her son, Dark Thunder. Dark Thunder...he should be quite near adolescence at this point, if not older. Chuckling to himself, his good humor temporarily restored, the wolf eases himself to his paws. It is time to pay a visit to that rascal of Silver Mist's, Ispan decides, beginning the descent from the sun into the shadows.

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