Blackfeather Woods talia

As the woman settles, Sobek takes his time to appreciate the fluctuation of her coat. Where the light manages to cut through the dark of the wood and dance across her spine in specks; the dust motes drifting on thin currents of air as he watches the ruddy colors shift. Sobek is young enough - ignorant enough - to believe his limited experience with the world was the only true experience, and he balks when she parrots the title back at him. It snaps him out of his study of her cinnamon coat and sharp angles.

He smiles. Mum, silly! She isn't here right now. Which wasn't so great, but Sobek was content with the company of the stranger. He boldly made to breach her personal space by squishing against her ribs, watching his red-brown coat smoosh against her toasty golds and warm autumn shades, imagining he was made of mud. Off-handedly he comments, Maegi is looking for me, but I am home now, so she should come home soon. Though, he lacked any sense of time. It would be nearly another week before his little cluster of family returned to the woods.