1/16/2025, 2:11 PM
The world lay in a shroud of silence, the kind only a winter dawn could bring. Snow drifted down offering the only sound - a gentle whispering silvery sound. Even the birds were quiet this morning, sleeping much as the world did.
Beneath the quiet, a flicker of movement broke the illusion of emptiness. A small weasel emerged from the underbrush, it's tiny light body moving across the snow's surface with practiced ease. It moved with purpose, paws skimming the top layer of snow like a little dancer. It weaved between bushes, along the lower trunks of trees, and out into the open with caution.
As it approached the open, it climbed a mound of snow much larger than itself so that it might stand upright and see the world around itself. There was the faintest movement beneath the snow that sent the weasel scurrying and sending up a puff of snow.
Where the weasel had been a moment ago was a tuft of gilded fur, warm as sunlight against the blinding white. The snow shifted again as the lifeless mound begin to stir and steam, presumably from breathing, rose from the mound. As snow fell away more, golden ears tipped with frost appeared and twitched to life.[/q]
Somewhere beneath the white blanket was Walter, though he knew not where he was nor even how he became here. He was in a state of fitful dreaming, his body twitching now and again.
Beneath the quiet, a flicker of movement broke the illusion of emptiness. A small weasel emerged from the underbrush, it's tiny light body moving across the snow's surface with practiced ease. It moved with purpose, paws skimming the top layer of snow like a little dancer. It weaved between bushes, along the lower trunks of trees, and out into the open with caution.
As it approached the open, it climbed a mound of snow much larger than itself so that it might stand upright and see the world around itself. There was the faintest movement beneath the snow that sent the weasel scurrying and sending up a puff of snow.
Where the weasel had been a moment ago was a tuft of gilded fur, warm as sunlight against the blinding white. The snow shifted again as the lifeless mound begin to stir and steam, presumably from breathing, rose from the mound. As snow fell away more, golden ears tipped with frost appeared and twitched to life.[/q]
Somewhere beneath the white blanket was Walter, though he knew not where he was nor even how he became here. He was in a state of fitful dreaming, his body twitching now and again.