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Full moon rising up above the dark pine trees, laced with snow and ringed in blue. Stars are twinkling above, like little diamonds spread about an endless dark tablecloth. Crunching of feet on the trampled ice and snow, the mists of hot breath rising up into the air. Swishing of waterproof and heavy lined cloth against familiar layers, while the quick padding of soft paws bound back and forth.
It's dark in the woods, and cold and breezy. Ice is building on the green scarf, while dry pain is building in the chest. Lungs are beginning to wheeze and cheeks are becoming rosy. But it's a night in a winter wonderland, and every moment suffering is another moment filled with glorious ice art. Big mounds of black and white fur roll about in a snow trench, before bounding off to piss on a bush. Wolf eyes gaze with wonder and everlasting curiosity and ears perk at every sound, both existing and non-existing.
Glasses are fogging, fingers wrapped in leather are getting numb. Time to go back to the warm place, where water for dry tongues and tea for hurting throats await. But it's a slow walk back, taking in all that is about. Everything is covered in miles of snow, and every track is visible. Lazy shuffling steps trek down the trodden paths and up a small steep hill. Silly howls of greeting echo in the courtyard, bouncing off of bricks and glass and through the few pine trees of the courtyard. Others jump and murmur at the sight of the wannabe wolf, but some laugh and howl back.
Open a glass door and climb fake marble steps. Turn a metal knob and release the mounds of fur into the warm place. Greet mama bear and brother pest, avoid the puddles of slick drinking saliva water on the ground while retelling the tale of Outside. Perhaps bake a pie, and enjoy the warmth. The sun won't be up for another eighteen hours.


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October 2012

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