Dawnlark Plains thought gasoline was on my clothes

the boy crashing through the grasses is not stealthy in his approach, and even though the heat has beaten her into pained motionlessness, she rises in the slightest and offers the boy a smile. "hey, Timb." Timberlake is too long, she's decided, and she'll come up with a shorter moniker through trail and error. should the heat have abated, she would have tempted the boy into a game, but as it is, she merely still until it's too late and he's fastened his teeth into her tailtip. she exhales quickly, wincing a fraction, and twists around quickly to attempt to knock the pups forepaws out gently, slightly-pained grin painting her muzzle none the less.