The sun shone brightly upon the golden plains. As the wind billowed through the lace-like fields it remarked a shining gleam that gave these Great Plains a glowing, flowing curve to its suggestion much like that of the great oceans to the East and West. Resting within this field laid a peculiar being...
The being of light shone bright of chromatic ordinance. Reflecting the colors of a rainbow after a rainstorm. Also, not too dissimilar from the radiance of a white opal gem, cleaned and cut. Upon her radiant fur, lines and symbols of her heritage. Those symbols meant something in the days of old, when her kind hunted the great buffalo. The times back when her triumphs put fright into the two-legs, as those of two-legs feared her majesty and fervor. Much had changed in the millennia's that have since come to pass.
Felicity, that was her name. A great wolf of the place within places. A spirit guide, wanderer and the last of her kind.
She arose from her bedding within the golden fields. Glancing up at the sun and fulminous clouds, she yawned. Her teeth glistened in the light of a new dawn. Those great ivory spires once again retreating behind black and pink membranes as she looked to the horizon. Smoke? What could this be? It wasn't the season of flame. The prairie was still in that time between the first and second solstice where the grass had lost its verdant hue, now turning to gold. Something was amiss...
As she strode through the fields to this disturbance in the land, she found herself wondering if perhaps the two-legs were behind this upheaval of the balance. The cold had grown more bitter, and the warmth of the sun had grown ever more unrelenting in respective seasons. As she mounted a hill, she beheld a sight that both incited anger and sorrow.
The land was barren here. No golden plains, just rivers of black ichor leading into larger pools. A large pillar of sorts had been erected here, made of wood and gleaming like the make of a falling star. Two-legs, perhaps a dozen dressed in strange garbage upon their pale skin walked here. Spattered in Gaia's black blood. Felicity felt immense sorrow for this land, anger too. Never had she seen such bastardization of her home before. She wept a single tear and turned away from the two-legs.
END
Writer's/Artist's note: Wolves disappeared from the Great Plains around the time of the industrial revolution, when oil production reached a peak in the trade market. Despite having been eradicated from the area efforts have since been made by Wolf reintroduction projects to try and bring wolves to their natural environment within and around the United States. Still seen as a terror to farmers, efforts have been slow to promising.
Additional note: I once backpacked for ten days in the Superstition Mountains in Northern Arizona. Upon first arriving at the drop site I had noticed on the road in that we had to bypass a strip-mine operation. I didn't think much of it on the way in. After ten days however in largely pristine, wild lands of the Superstitions I found sorrow. I wept as we departed by van through the very same strip-mine operation on my way out of the backpacking expedition. Nature is precious and should be preserved for all to enjoy, including the fauna and flora that call it home.
I made this Pastel Piece back in 2021. At the peak of my mental health struggles with Schizophrenia, I turned to other mediums like drawing and painting for processing what I had experienced in the many hospital, in-patient stays. Also, as a way to relax but mostly for processing and meditating on past experiences.
If you found my story or art insightful, please send me a message! Any tips greatly appreciated!
Thank you!
Stay Amazing!
-Elijah Riverbreeze
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26 Oct 2026 08:12 CET
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