Dawnlark Plains the sun on my head is my crown

she might have drifted off to sleep beneath the gnarled roots that surrounded her, but as she dozed (entirely catlike) in and out of slumber she heard a voice.  for a moment she thought it might be pema, and her eyes flash in worry of being caught outside the borders.

but it isn't.  maybe, she says, trying to be intentionally sly (although she is unpracticed and a child).  who wants to know?