HYCINTH

My Wolf was in heaven. The wind whipped through her fur as we flew by tall trees rising out of the earth to kiss the sky. Her nostrils flared with the scents of moss, bark and wild mushrooms. The spongy surface beneath our paws gave away easily, still damp from the recent rain showers. Acorns, pine cones, and fallen leaves were strewn about the well-worn path like spilled trinkets.

And her mate by her side.

There was nothing better for her. No other place she would rather be than right ...