Moonspear say a few words to the winds

Alya giggled at her mother's answer, recognizing the game with ease. Mamakaze was always fun like that, playing games with them that challenged them instead of the lighthearted fun that she preferred with Daddy.

Sneaking, now, Alya brushed as quietly as she could through the undergrowth, tiny black nose twitching rapidly as she searched for her mother's scent. The problem was that Mamakaze was always around here, and her scent was all over the place, accordingly. It was the same cover that she and her sisters used to disguise each other, rolling in each other's scents until it was impossible to know who was who.

But Alya was learning. She knew fresh scents from old ones, now, and she was following a fresher scent, now.

"I'm gonna get you," the little girl sang under her breath, knowing that she was near enough that the older shewolf would certainly hear her. The young girl hoped that her ribbing could goad the older wolf into revealing herself, jumping out at Alya to scare her. (Which it would; but being scared was worth finding Mamakaze sooner. She had some important things to discuss.)