Marigold had wandered into a beautiful meadow. It was filled with flowers and grass, quite easily a beautiful sight. She was pursuing the line that had spawned connecting her to a yet unknown wolf. The daughter of Dane and storm wandered across the fields, looking for the end. “What a beautiful meadow!” she exclaimed to herself. “All the pretty pretty blooms. . . .” She threaded between a clump of bushes and startled some birds. Goldie laughed in delight. “Oh look! Some grouse! There sure are none of those in Amaya or on the beach.” She stepped on a grasshopper, leaping back with a yelp. Luckily, she hadn’t squashed it.
The air came alive with cicadas calling and singing. Marigold was startled at first, but soon accepted the weird noises as musical. She bounced through the flowers, grinning wildly.
A butterfly flitted past, and Marigold watched it land on an aster. She smiled. “Hi pretty butterfly. You look really colorful and warm. Orange, and black. I bet the sun heats you up nice.” It was small, and had elaborate patterns of lines crossing the length of its orange wings. Marigold let it be.
She still saw no sign of any wolf. A pity. Couldn’t she just stay here? Goldie would really prefer to romp amid the flowers and bees and cicadas and butterflies. Another one, blue and black, glided past. Marigold tore off after it with a shriek of delight. One could tell that she was still a pup at heart. Investigating the wildlife was her release. She was worried about her mother, her siblings, and Amaya’s survival. But chasing the insects was so much fun, she forgot all about these matters.

“All you ever did was wreck me-yeah you, you wreck me . . .”