feel the moon hit the blacktop; any

[Firen]

He hurts. His whole body aches. But worst of all, he has a bone-deep chill he just can’t seem to shake.

It’s been the only thing on his mind since the attack - since the bizarre predator on Icicle Isle has ripped him open. His wounds were mending, slowly, but the cold was always on his mind. It’s was the kind of cold that made it hard to think of other things.

So he had left, despite the care of those who helped him there. He needed something they couldn’t give him. He said he would be back in the spring, or at least that’s what he told himself. The far north held a sort of appeal for the young would, he just had to shake this damn chill.

But the common lands aren’t that much better.

Dusk falls, and the little patch of winter sunshine where he had been resting goes with it. Reluctantly, he stands, putting the river at his back in search of a better place to pass the night.

With a snarl, the wolf-boy chases a mother and her two yearling fawns away from where they hand been sleeping. He could never catch them, in his current state, but they didn't seem to want to take the risk.  Wading into the nest of dried grasses and leaves, he moves quickly to take whatever heat they may have left behind. He spins and falls into the comfort of their beds, and sleep finds him nearly as soon as his eyes are closed.

He dreams of warmth, he dreams of a girl, and he forgets the ache in his chest and the chill in his bones.