Cricket Creek Bog soar higher than the stars

He spoke, but she did not seem to respond aside from the slight flick of an ear in his direction.

When she looked to him again, sniffing and curious, she decided on the spot that he looked ragged. His fur hung in clumps, and his belly sported the curve of adolescence as well as hunger. Or maybe it was only one or the other? Either way, to Miyax, the boy became Ragdoll.

By his posture and behavior, he seemed nervous. She picked up on this and murmured a soothing note towards him, batting her tail-tip, bending her head a little lower. I am not an enemy, she was saying. Do not be afraid. There was no reason for her to harm this boy — in fact, they'd be better suited as allies for the time being. The scent she'd caught had been something alive.

And with a switch of the wind, she caught it again. Her nose pointed away from Ragdoll and she took a moment to sniff and lift her nose high. Yes — there — a musky smell hidden by winter's biting cold. Miyax licked her lips and turned to watch the boy then, wondering if he had taken notice. Perhaps he was too hungry even to hunt?