THE LAST REFLECTED WOLVE

It was a cold night. No moon and no clouds, only a thousand, million sparks scattered across the sky. Refitwa looked up and stared at the stars, thinking. Looking down again she could see the endless stretch of her forest home. Her favourite spot was on top of the cliff. It was the only place she could let her mind expand as far as her eye could see. It was very dark on this night but she could still see clearly enough with her well-adapted eyes. Her favourite night’s were when the moon was at it’s best, making the top’s of the now dark trees a glowing sea of white, with a slight gentle updraft that tickled through fur and kept her soaring above the earth without much effort.
Refitwa is unknown in her years. Not even her herself knows when she first saw the light of this world. Refitwa was a Reflected-Wolve, a species of Wolve that could not come to harm or do any harm because they were spiritually connected to the earth and all the creatures in it. But now most other Wolvians believe that she and her kind do not exist, because of their rarity and are hardly ever seen. It was a curse. A living curse called Mann. Mann created a weapon so powerful that it wiped out Refitwa’s entire breed out. The breed that could never be harmed was torn to shreds. Only a few others from her kind survived, but now live in terrible fear, not of Mann itself, for they could not harm them, only of what Mann could create.
Refitwa laid on the cliff’s edge, continuously glaring into the horizon of never ending forest, wondering if the forest really had an end. She had flown in all directions for days before, never finding an end to the forest, so she just continued with her beliefs and her kinds beliefs that the forest was the blanket of the earth, never ending because it never really did end.
She caught a smell of warm air rising out of the forest below and decided to catch it whilst it was there. She stretched her cramped wings, for she had been lying there since sunset, and spread them. The slightly warm air felt refreshing between her feathers on her outstretched wings and through her fur on her face, which had been matted down from the earlier sun rain. She glided for a while, enjoying the rest of the night’s giving beauty. She was near the tops of the trees so she let one of her paws down and it gently rustled through the highest leaves on the trees. The leaves gave a gleeful movement around her paws and applauded her grace afterwards. The stars in the sky were starting to fade away as the new days sun slowly started glowing in the east, making Refitwa realise how tired she was and started looking for a break in the trees where she could get below the canopy. She found one close by that had a brown leafed tree. It looked as though it was dying with its branches snagging out like claws. One of the snags clipped the tip of her right wing and took one of her feathers. Although a spearing pain shot own her wing, she didn’t mind. She knew the pain would soon go away and a new feather would take its place. She could also use her taken feather to remind her where the break in the trees was because the feather was poking above the canopies roof. Under the canopy it was still dark. Refitwa found it slightly harder to see but she had travelled this part of the forest so much a picture was imprinted into her mind. She didn’t need her eyes to be able to see around here but she loved to bathe her eyes in the beautifully coloured underlying forest. During the day it would be a spectacular show of green. The low-lying plants would be thriving and the creepers winding themselves into twisting patterns. The rocks around and in the small stream that flowed across the forests floor were all covered in different shades of green and red mosses. They would brighten up the already illuminating underlying forest. Refitwa glided low over the stream and let a different paw break the stream into a playful pattern of ripples, which lapped away at the moss covered rocks in and around the stream.
She kept gliding along, occasionally beating her wings, the wind from them moving the water away from around them, to keep her in the air. She found a nice spot for her to set down and rest, out of site, and not easy to find. The place she had chosen was very over grown with creepers and a large rock covering half the already small entrance to the shelter. It was very tricky getting in because her wings kept getting caught in the dense and spiky vines. After a few snaps of branches and detangling wrestles with the vines she finally got into the shelter. It was a very snug fit for she could not turn around easily without having caught herself on vines again. Eventually, with many little cuts over her wings and one large one across the tip of her nose, she had turned around and settled into a comfy spot where she dazed before vacantly seeing the sun rise and fell asleep.