Mating Day.
It dawns as bright and fresh as any perfect early spring day, the remaining February snow on the ground glittering like diamonds in the bright morning sun. The air seems to crackle with my nervous energy as I follow the road to the Village Square, where the mating selection ceremony takes place every year. Every single year I’ve come to watch, felt the lingering gaze even when I was participating. This day is something I’ve dreaded for a long time. Everyone in the pack is out and on their way to watch, buzzing with excitement as they chatter amongst themselves. They are excited, and a small part of me that still has hope should be too, but I’ve got more chance of a thousand flying unicorns filling the sky than this day turning out good for me. The girls from all over the pack
