Arrow Lake There is a cat hovering in the men's bathroom at the radio station

Her laugh was low, lilting as her son — would her heart always flutter at that? She hoped so — reared his blackberry head to hiss at her assault. The velvet of her scarred muzzle scrunched, and she relented at the struggle against it; but the corners of her lips quivered in anticipation for Drago's retaliaton. Enraptured as he raised a doughy paw, as if to clobber her righteously... only for it plap onto one of her own pink nostrils.

Slim brow arced and furrowed at this, lashes drawing low as she regarded Dragomir with a loving sort of mockery. "Oh, you are fearsome, aren't you?" Aure scrunched the pink of her nose once more, letting the movement wriggle into the milk-warm body of her mure. "Will you become a fighter, like your tătic, hm? Or a seeker, like me?" With a breathy chuckle, she nudged her snout further under Dragomir's scrawny chest and throat, letting him squirm along the ivory and red of her.

Felt and smelt the baby-breath on her brow, at her tuft. "Or, will you flourish into something that neither of us would ever think?" Her tender interrogation was insistent but gentle, though, encouraging Dragomir to evoke some sound and respond in some way. "You dream so much, mure; you dream like me. You must have given it some thought, mure, mm?"

The truth was that whatever her children wished to pursue, she would support. And if it took them years to finally know what their calling was, and if it changed incessantly — that was fine, too. She would guide them, as she could, and would remain steadfast when they deigned to journey on their self-discovery.