Swiftcurrent Creek give me the heart of an archeologist, that i may dig until i prove that i exist

after a long, sleepless night with a frightened child and the row of behemoths overhead, the girl’s mother was likely still in the dryness of the den, catching up on hours lost to “soothing” her whelp. well, if soothing meant a whole lot of shhhh's and “chill out oh my god it’s just thunder” but… y’know, same thing?

the chuff that bid her ears gave Tiercel a turn; she lurched timidly, tail held against her underbody as her perusal of the puddle was interrupted by the rufous woman’s approach. despite her overall pluck and lack of horse sense when it came to obliging perfect strangers, as with Constantine, there was some inborn deference that canvassed her demeanor this time that hadn’t been present when she’d met Mahler.

though she initially didn’t notice the her-sized, cloudkissed babe hedging his mother’s lissome legs, Tier’s focus eventually convened on him. ”oohooooooohoo!” she crooned eagerly, shifting restlessly on her stomach as her tail whisked the puddle behind her with gusto. not having siblings or any social skills with other puppies for that matter, she looked expectantly between Durnehviir, Viinturuth, and the chawed bone he toted, for direction. it was obvious from her jitteriness that she wanted desperately to run up and greet the boy, but the situation was wrought with such novelty that she was overwhelmed and simply froze—resting her chin on the damp grass while her tail continued battering the water.