Thursday, October 18, 2007

Howling at the moon

Many moons ago I tried my hand at writing short stories, I will post some later this week but here is the first paragraph from the most unfinished one, maybe after the full moon I will be inspired to complete it, or at least give it some more body, flesh it out so to speak. It seems to be appropriate in the light of a planned adventure... although I doubt we will hear a wolf, we may hear a jackal or two. So here we are, counting down the days to Hunters moon next week... Anyone know whether there is any Wolfsbane growing in the Free State?

He looked up at the clouds, low and dark, almost foreboding. Shaking himself to rid himself of the snow the silver tipped timber wolf started to lope again, angling his decent to the glade below where the rest of the pack waited. His name was Skydancer, alpha male, mate of Softeyes the alpha female, he had seen seven winters in his lifetime and was in his prime. It was time to lead the pack in search of food, a herd of caribou was over the ridge from which he now descended. The hunt was something he always looked forward to. The pack greeted Skydancer with enthusiastic yelps.

The mate needs a new name... Moondancer maybe? Softeyes does not sound very wolflike at all.

"There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." George Carlin (1937 - )

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