Another Story About Spirit Wolves That You'll Love or Die.

I am the eyes and ears of the spirits.
Momentarily, this illustrious title makes me feel important, gives me purpose.
Momentarily, of course.

I fluff my black feathers against the cold and shift my wings, sinking deeper onto scrawny, scaly legs. My beady black eyes dart around as I wait for some sort of sign the spirits will give me that means I can return.
I have received no sign yet, and it has been two days.

Preening my ragged coat and ridding myself of dead, useless feathers gives me slight distraction from the bitter cold. I love it when I can fly, but when I turn into a bird, I lose some seperate freedoms as well. With a quiet sigh, I scoot closer to the trunk of the tree I'm perched in, hoping that its rough bark might block some of the wind. It's strange that winter is lasting this long, but no one dares to challenge Wiccek, the winter spirit. Granted, he's good-natured for the spirit of such an icy season, but his wrath is to be feared all the same. My head tucks in reluctantly as the need for sleep overcomes me despite myself, and I huddle desperately against the tree trunk, waiting for my sign.

The sky has darkened considerably, and now the white world swirling around me seems to slow as the thick blanket of night falls.
And still, I wait for my sign.

But I am the eyes and ears of the spirits, and so I will remain for the end of time.
At one time, this illustrious title would make me feel important, give me purpose.
At one time, of course.

Destlo stepped into the clearing. "I apologize for being late, I--" she began, but Quetil cut her off.
"Justhurryitupsowecanbegin!" she snapped.
Wiccek grinned. "We all know you're fast, Quetil, you don't have to talk fast too."
Twist rolled onto her back to stare up at the clouds wistfully. "Wiccek, how long before winter ends?"
The white spirit looked up indignantly. "I say never! Winter is the best month! Scenic and happy!"
"Andfreezing!" Quetil added with a giggle. "Isayyouhurryitupandfinishwinter.It'sabouttimespringcomesinandmakeswayforsummer!"
Destlo walked further into the clearingand sat down, chin lifted. "And I say it's about time we get this meeting started. Quetil, send Falkur the sign."
The yellow-furred spirit got to her paws with a huff. "Youdon'thavetoordermearound,y'know!" she replied, zipping into the night.
Destlo turned her attention to Wiccek, who, despite the fact that in the Spirits' Clearing it was always warm and sunny, was breathing plumy puffs of frosty air. "And you, Wiccek, Twist is right. Winter has gone on too long. If this continues any longer, all the seasons willbe thrown out of routine!"
Wiccek narrowed his yellow eyes and growled; his amiable mood had vanished. "Don't tell me what to do, Destlo!" he barked. "You're the one who told me to make winter longer this year!" Destlo gave her companion a withering look. "Yes, but I didn't intend for you to bury the world in snow and ice." Wiccek snorted, "You really thought ahead there, didn't you? Telling the Spirit of Ice to make winter long and then not assume I wouldn't add snow and ice to the mix."
Quetil suddenly hurtled back into the clearing. "He'shere!" she announced, speeding back to her place between Twist and Destlo.
A small, battered crow floated into the clearing; at the moment he touched the grass, his tiny form glowed and took on the shape of a wolf. He shook his snow-speckled coat with a glare at Wiccek before slipping between Twist and Quetil to the center of the clearing. "Well, Falkur?" Destlo studied his solemn face.
"What did you find?"