Hoshor Plains shots and squats

She'd found one of the best ways to avoid her sister's spunky disposition was to curl up into a ball and play like she did not exist. Paw over her nose, one bright blue eye watched the haze that was her sister bounce around in this that or the other direction. She didn't quite understand it. This movement. The blurs and shadows were so strange to her still. Simple things, she understood. Warm and cold. She liked the warmth. She liked curling up with her siblings and sleeping. Those things were good.

The moving stopped. Somewhat. Curious now, she peeled her paw back from her nose and shifted her small body in effort to stand. Her legs were wobbly. Her coordination still had plenty of room for development. One attempt and she stumbled forward. Another attempt and she fell back. Her progress was negated and she took to flopping instead, spinning and flailing her body as she crept towards this cold and with it discovered something new.

Wet. She moved too far. Hard rain splattered on her head as she yelped into the dreary void and regained enough grace to flop back into safety of their den. A wet paw drew upward as she rolled upon her back and unintentionally thwopped at her frozen sister's nose. Wet was bad. Wet hurt.