Blacktail Deer Plateau charcoal smudge

The tiny smudge wriggled when her father's tongue touched her, and she squeaked. It was unclear whether or not this squeak was happy or annoyed, but at this point it did not matter. It was an instinctual reaction fueled only by hundreds of thousands of years of evolution.

The touch was followed by the calming vibrations that were sometimes emitted from Ty's mother, and the child used her paws to push at the milk-making machine to further her pursuit of food. The faint smells around her were all familiar ones, and ones that she was comfortable with.