Forging Seasons

We were wolves, basking in the glow of the moonlight. Chasing autumn’s heels as winter froze our game. Hungry bellies that ached beneath the warmth of our fur, our smoking breaths, our hopeful howls. We huddled through the cold, cobbling warmth together with beating hearts and heated blood. When spring came, we were the first to greet it. Singing praises to the melting snow and the blooming life. All things renewed in our meadows, filling us to the brim with new scents, new trails. And we stayed through summer as well, panting through the sun’s burden of heat. Powering through so that we might blend with the colors of autumn once again.

We were wolves.

And things were beautiful.

It was not perfect.

It was not easy.

Yet…

It was life.

And it was good.

We were wolves. Together under the gaze of the forgiving moon. Hidden along the trees’ shadows, watchful and hopeful with every passing season. Looking forward to the future together with our eyes looking past the skies.

But now…

Now I’m unsure.

The foreign scent brings me grief. Filling me to the brim with something akin to summer’s heat, yet, it leaves me empty like winter’s bared teeth. This strange, familiar shape I see…

This change brings a season I’ve never heard of before. Winds that jar my senses with the foreign scent it brings.

You’re changing.

You’re…

Leaving.

Becoming… other.

And I don’t know anymore.

If we are not wolves…

Who will we be? Continue reading “Forging Seasons”

Beneath the Snow

The thing I liked about snow was:

It was tricky.

Very, very tricky.

It cascades over the landscapes. Washes it to look clean. Gives it a sparkling, new feeling those first few days that it sits. For as long as it remains untainted by dirt, it looks pure. White.

Like the world has been given a fresh start.

But…

If you step in the snow, you find that that’s not true.

It’s not true at all. Continue reading “Beneath the Snow”

Wolf of the Winter Wood

I had always thought I liked winter best. The way the cold pricks at your nose, keeps your senses sharp. Covers the ground with white, dusting away what once was in favor of what could be. A clean slate with the death of the past. Of what was.

Yeah, I liked winter best.

In all honesty, I think I still do.

But.

There was one thing I forget to account for.

Winter is so, so cold. Continue reading “Wolf of the Winter Wood”

Summer Soul

Frost. Snow. Ice.

Staples of winter.

When the wind bites, and the trees shudder, winter has set in. It isn’t all bad, winter is a time of rest. As it should be. One requires rest before they can obtain renewal.

However.

Rest is not permanent. It is the task, but not the goal.

Renewal.

That is the goal.

Warmth stretching your muscles, soothing your bones. A time for heat to seep in, keep your blood pumping. Keep you alive. Heat to bring warmth, to bring light.

Summer to soothe your soul.

That’s the goal.

A place of renewal.

That’s the goal. Continue reading “Summer Soul”

Warm Winter

It rained down on us. White flurries of frosty fury. Tiny morsels that, alone, meant nothing. But together?

They covered everything.

And it was in this blanket of quiet that I went searching.

Because the cold would only keep away for so long. Continue reading “Warm Winter”