Tough, leathery pads hit the ash ladened ground, making nothing but whispers over the Earth. No life here, not after that fire, only skeletons of animals and trees that once thrived by this lake; the wolf thought trudging through the ashes to the lake in the middle. Nearing it she could see the white decaying fish floating no the top. This fire was bad, she thought shaking out her blue pelt. The wolf bent her maw
unfinished
unfinished
