taking-ctrl

    The evening air was cool, as it tended to be when winter started breathing. Unblinking, amber eyes peered out over the rolling views.  The hills are like the sea here; rippling in their shape and carpeted with grass that never stops moving.  If you paid attention, the landscape always changed, just like its aquatic cousin.    Isi turned back to the activity she had set out to accomplish this evening.  With stained front feet, she made wide, sweeping arcs against the flat stones that lined her home.  With practiced movements, she painted the stone with guided grace, her paws moving up and then down along the wall.  After a few moments, ...