I run fast, my paws swift on the silvery forest floor. My destination: the peak of Rime Mountain, which gives the perfect outlook to view the radiant full moon in these unsympathetic December months. As a young cub, I had often dreamed of gazing at the full moon, sitting on the peak of Rime Mountain, and finally, tonight is the night my fantasy will be fulfilled.
My jet black fur seems to ripple from the onslaught of the Northern breeze whistling though the pine trees, music to my alert ears. The gust brings welcome scents of my brothers and sisters, but I am hesitant to join them. I had always imagined the moment being so private, so personal, that I am vacillating whether to have company or not, even the tranquil presence of my beloved pack. Shaking the ice from my resilient paws, I decide to continue on alone. I had patiently waited a seemingly-endless two years for this moment, and I want- no, need it to be exactly right.
Again, I set off to my destination, the repetitive rhythm of my paws touching and leaving the ground acting as a relaxant to my jumping nerves. The uneven mud slopes stood no chance against my will power, the urgency of my task taking full control of my mind, so much so that I have no trouble at all overcoming that obstacle: nothing can stop me now.
I leap over a fallen trunk, but the exhilaration of the adventure seems to have thrown off my focus; my left leg catches the bark and causes a minor gash to open. With a small yelp, I grind to halt to inspect my wound. My piercing blue eyes can only look on in horror as beads of blood rise to the surface, matting my once spotless fur. Ignoring my task at hand, I sit and slowly lick my wound. The gash stings with every stroke, the rusty taste of blood fills my mouth, but the bleeding is quickly fading. Hesitantly, I stand and gently put weight back onto my leg. Thankfully, the pain is weak, and so I cast my eyes ahead, to the peak of Rime mountain. A renewed urgency sparks within me, coursing through my body, the adrenaline temporarily numbing the pain from my leg. Disregarding my instincts, I sprint. I have never felt more alive.
With the peak so close I can almost touch it, I begin to slow, my injured leg demanding rest and attention. The sparkling moon is all I can see, it fills my thoughts so completely, the missing piece of the puzzle finally in place. I glance down, and to my surprise, crashing waves meet the mountain's side, the roar joining the wind in celebration of my long-awaited arrival.
I am at the peak. My mood is euphoric, and has peaked just like a unique mountain itself. Disbelieving, I sit down, my tail wrapping around my torso, and feel the powdery snow that decorated the crest of the rock, my paws leaving delicate prints, therefore proving to myself that I am really here.
I throw back my head and howl.