Hideaway Strath Happiness is like glass

A perceptible shift in the den’s atmosphere stirred Eirlys to full wakefulness, and she gathered her turtle flippers beneath her in a flurry of movement as she wormed her way toward the King Sequoia’s opening. At this stage, despite her sealed lids, she too could tell whether she was moving toward something light or dark — and she moved toward the light now, and by association, toward Chusi. She didn’t stop until she was moments away from brushing up her isosisko’s hind leg, and then she seemed to pause and reassess how far she’d come. Blindly she swung her head to “look” over her shoulder, squeaking plaintively, before she shuffled forward with single-minded determination. Unless Chusi shifted her position, Eirlys would almost certainly come into tentative contact with the slim, solid wall of the adolescent’s metatarsus.