Home is where the heart is?

Mason’s little ears dropped back against his skull as his mother shooed him to the back of the den. His father did nothing to stop the action, and so Mason was left with nothing to do but apparently shimmy to one side of the den.

Slinking low to the ground, the boy padded towards his sister dutifully. She was sleeping with her faint breath lifting small molecules of dust from the ground in front of her dainty muzzle. Big brother dropped a gentle kiss on little sister’s forehead, and then he curled around and behind her, spooning her for comfort as he often did whilst they slept. They were inseperable, the twin survivors.

Mason’s angled muzzle dropped to rest on June’s scruff, barely placing any weight there. With still-blue eyes, the boy glowered sulkily at the two adults talking some way away. His mama looked happy, which was generally something he was used to personally, because she was mostly happy when she was looking at her babies. Mason chuntered a low growl under his breath, the sound vibrating through his throat and echoing until it was hidden in the silken fur of June’s neck beneath him.