So why am I ten feet under and upside down

@FitzDutiful

The den had been colder recently, and his belly hadn’t been quite as full. Mason trotted to the mouth of their dark and cosy home, and looked out at the stormy evening. It was late enough to be dark, so he knew he shouldn’t be awake. The wind lashed the trees outside until – with a tumultuous CRASH – one finally gave way. Mason’s ears flattened against his skull as he jumped from his skin, then flattened himself against the hard earth. A racing heart pounded within his chest, but no matter where he looked he couldn’t actually see the tree which had toppled. It must have been behind their den.

Frantic moments rushed by. All he could hear was the wind and the rain – minutes before that had seemed loud, but now it was a peaceful solitude in comparison.

Mason’s heart stilled to its normal beat. He padded one step closer to the edge, until the tip of his wet nose hovered over the threshold. Sullen drops poured down, running over the edge of his nostrils and streaming back across his muzzle. He immediately stepped back and sneezed.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw June was still sleeping softly, her peace not marred by this particular storm. For Mason it was the one inside which threatened to engulf him. Movement caught his eye as FitzDutiful’s ghostly figure cut a path through to meet his son at the den’s entrance.

Knowing he shouldn’t be up, Mason’s posture immediately shrunk submissively, and he watched his father approach carefully, unsure of the reaction he was going to receive. He doubted it would be terribly strict – Fitz was a doting father. He looked like a smaller version of his father in that moment, only peppered with dirt, and with a particularly wet nose.

“Papa, where is Mama?” His voice seemed small and lost, trembling in the darkness, barely rising above the level of the rushing rain.