Silver Creek and if the whole world is crashing down

@Casmir

each morning indra eagerly arose, rushing towards the pale strangs of sunlight that dappled the den's entrance. under the soft morning glow the little firebrand waited with long ears pressed forth, her bright fur illuminant in the amber pylons of light. and each morning she was left unanswered, her little ears falling to her head in dejection and a soft frown worrying her short muzzle. occasionally a distant snap would rally her spirits and she would gallumph to the entrance expectantly, though the visitor was always the same: silence.

she was too young to feel betrayed by her mother's absence, but that did not stop her from fretting. with a quiet whine the fawn-hued juvenile slipped to the ground and rested her head on her paws with a disconsolate expression.