Pawsteps

[Deleted]

The beach was quiet. Not a soul could be seen, and not even a stirring of wind breathed life onto the bare sandy shore. The only movement was that of the waves, rolling gently onto the sand, then receding back out into the vast blue ocean in their steady monotonous rhythm.

Peace doesn’t last forever though – if you looked far out to sea, where faint touches of the new dawn’s rays were beginning to glitter on the surface of the water, you might have spotted a small dark shape amongst the frosted waves.

Each strong powerful kick brought she wolf closer and closer to the tantalizing shore; her destination. Her head was held clear above the water at all times, soft brown eyes resolutely focused on the land mass before her. Gradually, the shape on the horizon grew larger, until finally, what seemed to be an ordinary brown she wolf emerged slowly from the sea, shedding droplets of water as she came to a stately halt on the warm golden sands. No sign of exhaustion was shown by the well-aged femme, no relief at finding solid dry land beneath her paws. Instead she was already busy scanning the unfamiliar land before her, the vast open grassland that seemed to stretch for miles, offering to her eyes a plethora of opportunities for exploration.

Another interesting point to note were the mingled scents of strange wolves drifting faintly on the breeze; they must be relatively common around here. More importantly, though, these were not pack wolves, they were loners. Perfect… she would blend right in, and hopefully they would be smart enough not to bother her. A wry smile came to the mixed femme’s lips, the first sign of emotion she’d shown since her arrival on the continent.

With this good news in her heart, the graceful feminine form danced across the short expanse of shore left between her and her future, the pawsteps she left in her wake mere dimples in the sand, soon to be erased by the incoming tide. Her arrival here would pass unnoticed; she would fade into anonymity like dust on the breeze, untraceable. It was what she’d always done best, it was her specialty. Along with lying, of course. She was mistress of deceit, weaver of stories so complex, so believable, that none could tell the difference between true and false. Another quiet laugh escaped the she wolf’s maw as she trotted forward to explore her new environment, dull brown eyes sparking with anticipation for what was to come.



.