Nose to the air, scent of flowers, grass, of forest, and, I shuddered, wolves. I am too close to Canada, where the red wolves will chase me down, they are not fond of humans, shifter or otherwise. A high, shrill call shatters the peacful sounds of breeze over the long-grass feild. A bird, bright, bright orange with a red tufted crest and red primary feathers. I lift my nose higher to sniff at the bird, who stares down at me with dark, curious eyes. Now, my human brain churrs, what strange bird are you?
Murr murr murr, don't judge my were-dogness, just, just don't.
Murr murr murr, don't judge my were-dogness, just, just don't.
