Write four lines of prose about: the animal.
The north wind, she be blowing tonight. And has been since mid-afternoon. Temperatures, unsurprisingly, have dropped accordingly.
Right now I'm just hoping the roads and sidewalks won't be too icy tomorrow morning for people to come out to the craft market. I suppose I should also be concerned about being able to get there myself...
I am behind on comments once again, but I'm at least trying to keep it to within the last week. That way I have hope that I might be able to get fully caught up whenever I have a reasonable chunk of time available for that purpose.
There is an animal outside of my house, circling it as though it intends to dig us a moat with its footsteps. It does not seem bothered by the wind or cold or dark. The way it moves suggest it could keep this up for days, maybe even weeks.
I knew, I just knew that Grandma shouldn't have shot that baby bear that had been sticking her nose and claws into our garbage cans...