Sequoia Coast Need some air

The sand shifted under her feet as she pranced, and one moment she stumbled and looked about ready to fall on her face. As the small dark Endore righted herself, she glanced back at her would-be opponent, who had lowered herself into a play bow. Ptarm waved her tail high over her back before dropping it to a more neutral level. She was no leader, not here, not anywhere.

With a deep woof, the female danced forward, slapping her paws in front of her encouragingly. She tossed her head as she approached, pausing every once in a while in her curious bounds to observe Thistle's actions. Who knew what game they were playing? It didn't have a name that Ptarmigan knew. It was simply a natural, instinctual response to a play bow.