I watched her. Waited for her to turn and glimpse my dark form in the woods.
She blew a puff of breath to watch it swirl a cloud on the air. She clapped the snow from her gloves and turned to go.
I couldn’t hide anymore. I blew out a long breath as well. It was a faint noise, but her head turned immediately toward it. Her eyes found the mist of my breath, and then me as I stepped through it, slow, cautious, unsure of how she would react.
She was as silent as I was, and perfectly still.
I painted this about 12 months ago and I keep forgetting to post it but here it is now so all’s forgiven. I will freely admit there is something odd about that wolf, as I will point out that Grace has no arms. I didn’t paint the background, it’s a recycled canvas.