Stone Circle My siblings are my best friends

Of every wolf who made their rounds at the rendezvous, there were two besides her mother and father who stoked Merrit with particular curiosity. The first was a large and sterling boy about as quiet as Merrit himself, and the second neared their densite now, a swarthy girl he might have mistaken for his mother if he judged by appearance alone. In earlier days he had known these two important, but it was only recently that he had titles to give them. Brother and sister, his siblings, like Keen and Arlette were also to him.

Merrit had taken residence beneath the fresh growth of a low-lying bush, hoping to escape the heat, but he watched from the shadows as his sister went for the den. While her muzzle did not tip to him, her summons were unquestionable, and he lifted from his cool patch of earth and uncurled in a long and languid stretch. There was no rush to his movement; the boy took his time to ease the stiffness from his legs one by one before he neared her from behind, forgetting as always to announce his approach with any noise but the slightest grace of his paws against the earth. He focused more on Steph herself, and he craned his neck to peer over her shoulder with the slightest part of his mouth, trying to see whatever prize she held pinned beneath her paw.