Lost Creek Hollow no time to think, time to sleep now

not-so-little anymore marten was quiet for a moment. she was tired… but something told him that the word didn’t mean what it usually meant. but he didn’t know exactly what, so marten tried to console her with the familiar meaning of the word. you should sleep, mama, he said, pressing his nose to her shoulder, i’ll watch the den for you— and bring you something to eat. you should sleep. that was how you fixed tired, in marten’s experience.

and then she asked how he and rupert were settling in, and marten scrunched up his nose. we been fighting, he admitted, wiggling a little where he stood— probably out of some sort of emotional turmoil rather than his usual excited wiggle— he was mean on the way over here. but we’ve talked about it, i think we’re okay now. marten and rupert would go through many things together, this was just one small bump in the road. 

i like the trees here, they’re so pretty, he added, tail wagging a bit, they look like you, mama. and they did. autumn had turned them bright shades of warm colors, orange and reds and yellows. and marten, who saw his mother for what she was— wonderful in every way— saw her pretty amber pelt in them.