Dried out, brown grass everywhere.
I kept looking, but only the mountains where to be seen in the horizon, under the threatening grey sky. Now and then, the wind would howl like the lonely prairie wolf, and the more it howled, the more I began to feel like one myself.
Slowly, I began to walk again. One foot on front of the other. The crunchy sound from the grass. The heavy air in my lungs. Sweaty palms. But then the rain.
First one drop, then another and suddenly the drops where everywhere, falling in harmony from the sky.
I just kept walking, even enjoying the rain and the silent music that evolved from it.
I reached a cliff, and even though the rain didn't bother me (yet) I decided to take shelter and wait for it to pass. But the wolves bothered me, and they seemed to be nearby.
Luckily, there was a small cave in the cliff, so to feel more safe I decided to creep into the bottom and tuck myself up in my bear skin. It was my father who gave it to me, when I was just a kid. In our tribe, it was a big deal when you received the skin from an animal, whether it was a brown bear, a wolf, or dear. Of course, you would appear more badass with the bear skin, and for that I thanked my father.
I began to shake because of my wet clothes, and I tried to scrub my hands together, but without any satisfying result. I looked around in the cave, hoping to find signs of earlier visitations, but no tree stumps where to be found, only the cold walls. I tucked myself tighter, and squeezed water from my long, black hair and braided it afterwards.
I could only sit there and stare at the rain and thunder outside, while the wolves screams where carried to me by the wind, closer and closer.