Dragoncrest Cliffs fumble through the fog for a season or two

The other three pups were always eager to accompany their mothers on short forays away from the den. Although the idea enthused Bat inwardly, she often dragged a bit. Today was no different in that regard. As Wildfire led her away into the territory, she trotted along at a very leisurely pace, simply too lazy to make haste. She did enjoy the scenery, not to mention all the strange smells, but there was part of her that would rather be back home, napping.

Although Wildfire shot her a look of consternation a time or two—why did Bat tend toward lethargy? Was there something wrong with her?—the mother eventually decided to just let it go and be grateful that she had at least one easy sloth of a child. She had to double back to nudge the slow-going Goufa but they were on the move again, stretching their legs in the early June sunshine.

Bat didn't even notice Blixen until Wildfire shouted, "Hei!" The pup—who'd been bent over, sniffing at a pine cone—slowly raised her head. A smile blossomed on her youthful face as she stepped forward to join her mother and older sister. As she walked toward him, however, her nose suddenly began to itch something fierce. She stopped in her tracks, scrunched up her face, sipped in a few shallow breaths, then let out an explosive sneeze.