Bearclaw Valley I saw Bambi staring at me from the back of a milk carton
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Though the sun was dazzling overhead as dawn burned into morning proper, there was still a chill in the air that gripped young Lucas in its claws as he emerged from the den. He was forbidden from going anywhere beyond the patch of grass just beyond the entry but he took every opportunity to go there as often as possible. He sun on his browning fur made his heart flutter and the sounds and smells of spring in full swing always put him in a great mood.

But who are we kidding? Lucas was always in a great mood.

The fat little Redleaf settled himself in the tall grass with his ears pricked to watch a songbird flitting in the branches of a tree. Slowly his tongue came to poke out past his black lips, a little pink bleb on his mouth, as he became engrossed in the way the songbird's wings beat soundlessly between precise little hops. Behind him, his tail swept rhythmically through the grass.

Bumped up a few days, preferably someone new!
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