Post by Dragon on Feb 6, 2009 1:26:03 GMT -5
Thymetongue sat with his eyes closed listening to the outside world. His wide belly flattened slightly as he laid down upon the cold stone. With a soft sigh he opened his nearly black eyes. In the outside world, it was a winter wonderland. But it had gone past the point of being safe for them. The kits no longer played, the wind did not breath it wailed through the trees the mystical dance of the snow as graceful and deadly as death.
