Wapun Meadow waiting in my room, and i lock the door

in the girl’s flickering gaze astara saw one instinct, and one she knew well: Hunger. 

she decided then a game might be fun. the pearl-furred stranger might not know of her participation in such pursuits, but give it time —

astara’s dark plume wagged behind her, disarming. nimbly she jerked her muzzle skyward, sending the vole in a bizarre cartwheel across the air. a sudden quiet came over astara as the vole landed near ibis’ feet in a haggard heap of grey.