Faolan was dreaming She was a sleek gray wolf as she trotted through the quiet forest, aome unkown force pulling her on. She came to the edge of a river that was flowing so smoothly its surface was like glass. She paused, one paw held at the water's surface as she scented the air for unwelcome visitors. Sensing none she lowered her head to drink. The water was icy, fresh from a mountain stream. As she raised her head again something caught her eye. Her reflection, distorted as it was by the ripples, was not that of a wolf, but rather her own, crouched on all fours with one hand in the river. Plain old #2 on lightly textured sketch paper.