Wheeling Gull Isle and then the days got worse and worse

@Astaroth

 

while nüwu crept from the den out into the world, her mother followed secretly, many yards behind but ever-watchful. the little thinker could not place why the fur along her spine rose, why that eighth sense flared up in the discomfort of being exposed, of being watched. but she continued down to the moors between the forest and the shore, thinking herself alone, and finding some soft grass. there she laid herself down, and allowed herself to be a puppy without the eyes of others upon her, rolling in the green on her back and wiggling her dark paws in the air.