Oh butterflies, you steal my sleep each night.

She dreamed that she was flying. Over frosted treetops and upward, higher, enough to find herself lost among cotton candy clouds illuminated by warm shades of gold and soft pink. Aisling didn't stop to consider the why or the how - she immersed herself in the opportunity until something did not feel right.

She began to plummet.

Down, down, down -

When the young she-wolf woke, she did so with a start. Aisling gasped, aware of the uncomfortable flip of her belly as she pulled herself up onto tufted elbows. Silver eyes darted around the icy hollow she'd roused within, confused, eager to find something that might be familiar enough to settle the anxiety that so suddenly grew within her heart.

Cold had seeped into her bones and she trembled as she gathered to her paws and drew in a shaky breath, tail tucked close to her rear as she tiptoed shakily toward dimming daylight that beamed through the threshold of the cave she'd found herself within. “Wh-” her breath appeared in a plume of ashen smoke that dissipated before her nose, “where am I?”

How did I get here?

Out onto the ledge before her cave, she squinted against the light of a setting sun and took in the view stretched out before her.


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