“To his right as they drove north, vineyards terraced the hills, and between the hills and the roads, rows of trees clung to their last leaves, a tapestry of yellow and brown. It would have been beautiful a month ago, he thought, and then chuckled as he made the connection between that and the timing of Helfer’s annual trips home. Patches of green persisted here and there, citrus groves that remained green year round. As they drove through one, Volle could see the lemons hanging from the trees. ...Streak was fascinated. “I’ve never seen lemon trees before.” He opened the door and poked his muzzle out, breathing in deeply. The air was chilly, but warmer than it had been in Caril. Volle could smell the rich, moist smell of the ground and the tartness of the lemons. He smiled, watching Streak’s ears flick back and forth and his nose search out smells on the air rushing past the carriage. The wolf’s cub-like excitement at new things was one of the things that so endeared him to Volle.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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