Moonspear take me down to the beach, by the coconut tree

There was no way to tell the time, not that Galaxy actually knew the correlations between the position of the sun and time of day. She smacked her lips slowly, still waking up from the unplanned nap, and felt her belly gurgle and pinch with hunger. Before she could ponder whether or not she should eat something, a black figure glided toward her. Galaxy recognized the she-wolf from the other day, when the Alphas had moved their offspring to this very rendezvous site.

Although there was part of Galaxy—the innocent, growing child—that wanted to playfully refute her pack mate's use of the term "little," another part of her deeply enjoyed the comment. This lady thought she was little, not a fat head. The youngster's tail began to wave, swaying her slender hips, and she smiled at the vaguely familiar Eta.

"Hi," she chirped. "I remember you from the other day." But if she'd learned the woman's name, she forgot it now. "What's your name again?" Galaxy asked shamelessly even as a fat raindrop splattered right between her mismatched eyes.