Dawn's Flame

It was early. Far too early. 

The sky was still dark, streets rendered empty for miles and miles. Traffic lights created small halos around their shining bulbs. Dew and twinkling stars. So what was she doing out there, wandering through deserted streets in the dead silence and biting cold air. Yet she was dressed inappropriately for the occasion. A black and maroon top that did little to cover her stomach and back, only saved by the brown scarf wrapped around her neck and over her muzzle. 

It was early. Much too early.

Yet her eyes did not yearn for sleep. It had always been that way. Once she awoke, she could never return to the welcoming arms of sleep. So now here she was, wandering purposelessly through the empty sidewalks. Like a ghost who couldn't find its way into the light. But that was her, someone who just couldn't sit still.