Wapun Meadow But he left it in the bag with the tag still on

She lowers herself into immediate submission.  Her stomach grazes the wildflowers, pert pink tongue darts from between her lips as she tilts her head in a curious fashion.  As he speaks her ears sweep forward on her crown, and her body quivers against her will.  She very nearly breaks from her position and bolts away.

But she doesn't.  She hears her daughter's name and she crumbles.  Nu mama, she offers simply, Nuna, Marten.  My baby.  H-haff sister, Konne.  With me.  It is a poor explanation, but it is all she has to give.  She creeps forward towards the boy, still crouched, and her lowered tail beats a tattoo against her hocks.  H-hallo.

He is big!  Much bigger than her children had been.  He is a beautiful, perfect mix of his parents.  The thought both intrigues and revolts her, but she is capable of separating the parent from the child.  He, at least, seems much nicer than his mother (who would never be caught dead frolicking in wildflowers).