Dragoncrest Cliffs the good left undone

Well, that was odd. Daddy Dio didn’t seem to know right away what color she smelled like. Maybe he couldn’t see the colors like she could. Or maybe it was like her eyes: only some wolves were born with it. After a little while, though, Daddy Dio did finally settle on what he saw her scent as: a bright, warm orange. Being Sequoia, she immediately assumed that was the best color to ever be. It sounded very, very pleasant and warm, which was exactly the kind of thing everybody wanted to be, right?

That so— she paused mid-word to let out a yawn —ounds nice. Blinking her eyelids, which suddenly felt a whole lot heavier, she gave her father a lick on his chin. I’m gonna go back to sleep. He was, of course, welcome to accompany her back to the wolfpile, but she would just as happily escort herself. She was a grown up now, as far as she was concerned.