Heron Lake Plateau But I don't get out much these days

A foul smell wrested her from the throes of sleep.

Not again, but alas, it were true.

Face scrunched, she blindly felt for her mother only to find her absent—somehow, someway, the raven-haired matriarch had escaped without rousing her—but there were small comforts knowing her siblings were near. Phoebe reached out, stretching not so long legs with a face splitting yawn. She may have touched someone or something but it hardly mattered to her. She remained content.

The offensive odor was coming to pass; there'd be no need to start in with a cacophony of whimpering and whining yet. Her needs were met as well as could be and nestled down where she was, sleep was still all tempting...

She sighed, smacking her lips.