So, they craved the knowledge of the lungs, of the melodies that filled each and every day? It had been such a significant part of communication for the vixen, listening, replicating and understand the songs that the birds twittered, that her mother had sang to her in her puphood, that she had created and sung herself. Each and every decidable, note, word, it all came down to an art, and not all creatures were capable of such beauty. However, in the power of a howl, she had learned that her species was one of such and so, with that, she had learned, and now, she would teach.

With her autumn corpse upon the lake’s beauty, snow blanketing the once green grass and leaving imprints of her movements, she had chosen her studio. She sat beneath a tree, enclosed in the shade of the sunny afternoon, each and every snowflake reflecting like precious diamonds. The goal in her mind had been simple, teach them beauty and art, and the rest would develop with practice, with poise and with an ever looking teacher upon hand. This is where the creatures would flock and hear the voices of the predators, this day would be known in history as the one of grace and beauty, and perhaps, talent would envelope from it. However...without students, a teacher could not teach.

Tilting her head back, and closing her golden eyes, her breath came upon her lungs easily, and heavily, and sprang forth from her mouth, a howl entwined with a lyric less song, a melody sweeping over the lands and calling, bringing forth those that wished to know the southern accent, that yearned the beauty that was pitching within the ears come forward and learn. It beckoned and whispered to the birds who sat above her head, and it’s message was clear.

”Come.”

As the noise faded and her head lowered, her eyelids opening upon the world around her once more, a sincere smile crept upon her face. It was time to share the knowledge she carried, rather than be the one learning. Oh how she hoped she had some serious fighters, because when she was through with them, their lungs would be busting for more air, the arch in their backs were to ache, and reality of the song would hit them. This was no easy task, and she would be sure to share her pain.

”She whispers” ”She sings She thinks