Lost Creek Hollow i might get your song played on the radio station

Root finds Jazz scent the strongest and it isn’t long before she’s greeted with the familiar form of her sister, grey-faced and blue-eyed, and her tail waves so excitedly that her butt wiggles. Getting tired of seeing Jazz’s face has yet to wear off but they had so much time to make up for with weeks between them, thinking the other to be dead. She’d mourn the loss of her family and now, to reverse that, seems surreal. She leans into the lick, closes her eyes, and sends off a nudge in return.

“Not anymore,” she says, showing her teeth in a grin, before she bumps shoulders. “Was looking for you.”

Lagon’s scent had become lost to her but, perhaps she could still find him; he is an important factor in this decision anyway. “So before you got here, I’d been sharing a den with someone and,” she hesitates, looking back to Jazz, “it wouldn’t be fair to up and leave him when it’s so cold.” Lagon had been pretty easy-going since they’d met and the den-sharing thing had worn off the awkwardness. Throwing Jazz into the mix might return the initial period of weirdness but it couldn’t be too bad, could it? 

“Maybe, if he’s okay with it too, you could move in? It’s pretty big.”