Vivian yawns after a short nap and looks at the windows. The lake met the sunset with such grace at the end of the day as if the two of them were so enchanted by this eternal dance that she barely noticed the white mountains.
The lake in reflective orange and scarlet, the willing canvas of soon-to-be darkened mountain and sky, brought its artistic watercolor effect to the sundown.
Hearing noises from the path of the small lake that borders the pack's property between the cottage and the woods, Vivian strolls around the cottage and heads for the water. As she approaches the water's edge, her eyes were already surveying the smooth surface of Walter. Sighting him about forty feet from shore, Vivian watches as he glides through the water silently. And unaware that she was there, He lifts hi
