A pleasantly cool breeze ruffled Eden's fur. It was still summer-thin, and she shuddered ever so slightly when it wove across her ears and nose. She had been jogging, trying to wear out some energy, when she stumbled upon a clearing and spotted, in the perfect gap between the tree-tops, the silhouettes of the mountains.
Tail quivering ever so slightly, she lifted her gaze, following the craggy slopes to the peaks. These mountains, she reflected, were called the High Country. The mountains marked a natural border between the Aryn pack and the rest of the world.
She glanced back towards the territory, and turned to the mountains. She could almost feel them pulling at her paws. I want to climb one of those peaks. Today, I want to touch the sky.
Storm ruffled her coat; although naturally thick, she could still feel a bit of the cool air seeping through. She preferred it that way.