Stavanger Bay Flower In The Wind

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Szymon watched the precocious child with marginal interest as she explored the rock beneath her infinitesimal forepaws. She offered him a sunny smile, gazing up at him with bright eyes, and came up with a new name for him — one that was only slightly preferable to Sneezemom. “Sure,” he said, for she seemed to be proud of herself, and he worked hi stoic expression into as gentle a smile as he could manage.

The red-tailed cub edged forwards, her eyes slanting cautiously toward Szymon, and a genuine smile tipped the corners of his scarred mouth. He could appreciate a cub as respectful as this one seemed to be, though his own children were well on their way to becoming quite the little pair of hellions. “You’re okay,” he reassured her verbally, using body language to reinforce his claim. Turning his head, he glanced toward the choppy ocean waves, his lean musculature relaxed and his tail held in a neutral position. He was patently unfazed — and he went so far as to meander further into the territory, glancing over his shoulder to watch the cub explore her second home.

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