Lost Creek Hollow Wild things

Equally oblivious to the lurker in the underbrush, Larkspur continued gliding through the woods like some sort of nimble forest spirit. At length, the trees and shrubs began to thin ahead of her and Spur cried, "We're almost there!" and glanced over her shoulder to make sure her mother was still right behind her.

Facing forward, Larkspur darted to the edge of the stream, digging her creamy toes into the soft soil and leaning over the water. She stared at her rippling reflection for a moment, then gazed downstream at the smooth, chuckling rapids. Spur then dipped down and broke the image of her own face with her tongue, lapping vigorously but somehow daintily.