c h e z a
Cheza's ears perk as she hears the voices of other wolves around her. She lifts her head up, water dripping from her muzzle. She pads out of the lake and shakes off the liquid. The fae's amber eyes close as the dropplets hit against her face. Cheza sits down, looking up at the grey sky. Another grey sky . . . She thinks to herself, her fur contrasting with the clouds. The cool wind sways the grass blades back and forth, making her eyes close again. Cheza sits there, on the gassy shore of the lake, trapped in a still life picture.
Cheza's ears perk as she hears the voices of other wolves around her. She lifts her head up, water dripping from her muzzle. She pads out of the lake and shakes off the liquid. The fae's amber eyes close as the dropplets hit against her face. Cheza sits down, looking up at the grey sky. Another grey sky . . . She thinks to herself, her fur contrasting with the clouds. The cool wind sways the grass blades back and forth, making her eyes close again. Cheza sits there, on the gassy shore of the lake, trapped in a still life picture.










