Heron Lake Plateau Coo coo for cocoa puffs

The bitter tang of urine reached Kite quicker than her brother’s distressed cries did; she was still hearing through earfuls of cotton, after all. She’d been playing with a few of the gifts that littered the den — a scrap of rabbit hide and a wafer-like scapula bone. She was fascinated by different textures and spent an inordinate amount of time examining her environment with her paws, teeth, and tongue.

The acrid taste of fear in the air caused a fitful litany of whines and whimpers to cascade from Kite as she wormed furiously toward her brother, some of the wild jittering in her limbs seeming to have calmed as she gained better control of her growing body. It appeared that some of the wibbles and wobbles were due to infancy, for as she aged, she grew stronger — but it was also apparent that she was always going to be a little bit different than everyone else. A growl billowed in her tiny lungs and warbled free, her fur standing on end like an agitated cat’s, as she watched Niamh lunge at the not-wolf with fierce alacrity. She wanted to help!

Unfortunately, Kite’s condition meant that she was never going to be entirely successful at things that involved physical prowess. She meant well, but as she came in from the other side and instinctively attempted to flank the bird so it had nowhere to go but toward Niamh, she lost her balance and her hips swayed abruptly to the right instead of following in line with the rest of her. It was the first time she had experience failure, but it wouldn’t be the last. Regaining her balance, she smushed herself against Owen and began to lick lovingly at his face to comfort them both.