Seaside Moors You believe in mountains, right? Not everyone does

Not stopped but encouraged, the girl was soon toddling out into the open. The sun glowed overhead, warming her pelt in a way she was not familiar with. Maman said something, producing sounds she could not place meaning to, and the child glanced up at her; owlish in nature, she gazed at the elder wolf with obvious curiosity. But when staring did not magically grant her mind the ability to decipher those peculiar sounds, she closed her eyes and jutted her muzzle up into the air, nose pointed towards the sun—whatever those sounds meant, they weren’t nearly as enticing as the sun’s rays. Peeking an eye open, she looked to maman again—only, this time, it was not to find meaning to her words but to see if she also enjoyed this strange, newly discovered warmth.