Moonspear degrees of light

The shadow at the mouth of the den is what convinces it to let go. Somehow, it connects its sister's whines with the appearance of this beast, and natually assumes that it has appeared to protect the squealing girl.

Dropping the soft, fuzzy triangle and tucking its chin against its throat, it observed the monster that now stood at the mouth of the den. Funny that it smelled masculine - it was black, and everyone knew that being black meant you were a girl, and white meant you were a boy. But this black creature was definitely male. Weird.

The distinction was vague and foggy in the back of Alya's mind. It did not know whether it was black or white, or even that it could be, though it had long since figured it out iwas the same manner of creature as the rest of its family. That black wolves could now also be boys threw a wrench into its view of the world, but it was quickly adapting, relying more on scent for such things than sight. Maybe color didn't matter, but her nose could never mistake a male for a female - not in adults anyway.

With its siblings, things were less concrete. They all smelled vaguely girlish, but then, the Kind Mover was a girl. Maybe they just smelled like her? It was certainly a conundrum. Luckily, Alya was far from such complex thoughts. Confusion reigned supreme before she quickly came to the conclusion that she must be a girl. The most beloved was a girl. They were the same.

And this stranger was not the same. Alya didn't know him; he wasn't family and so he didn't belong. Growling mightily, she charged two bouncing steps toward the wolf, daring him to try and enter.

"Ba gaga da!" she shouted.