Hushed Willows all we know is falling

rescues this, and myself from the sweeper

for all the time he spent with his nephews, cortez didn't really know the other kids all that well. there were lily's, and then there were sunny's, also left motherless. one of them—valiant? maybe?—was rooting around in the brush nearby, clearly looking for something, as the shakti made his rounds. intrigued, he diverted course, headed toward the boy with a warm smile on his face.

what'cha doin, buddy? he drawled, head cocked in query. he sat back and curled his tail 'round his paws, looking for all the world like a curious housecat, watching a laser pointer. maybe because his writer has no practical experience with dogs and, alas, resorts to cat metaphors and personification whenever she can. probably that, yeah.