WillowMoon

The old wolf lay on a soft bed of dried moss that she had made under a small Crack in the cave's roof. She loved to lay there in the night and let the moon's light trickle down and cast its large shadow over her pelt. Tonight, she looked up at it with a smile. She thought back to the night she learned of her deep love for the moon. She remembered the crack that she was born under and the way its dim light glowed on her. She remembered her mother's smile as she looked from the moon to her face. She couldn't wait to join her mother and the other wolves she had known in her life on the moon. She closed her eyes and just focused on the feeling of a warm blanket of moonlight covering her as she took a deep breath. Her last breath.