Trifle Whit

Bored. So bored. Trifle Whit sighed and sat down on a ledge overlooking the canyon. The small white wolf glared at the landforms, as if this would make the trees or boulders do something interesting. When the trees only swayed in the wind, Trifle Whit growled and rolled onto her back. Her large, golden eyes squinted from the sun's brilliance, but remained open enough to watch the grey clouds drift slowly by. Trifle Whit sighed again. Boring.