Northstar Vale Your art was the prettiest art of all the art.

And so it began. Someone emerged and spoke; it was not Hotaru's voice, and she spun around, sending bits of grass and dandelion in her wake, immediately suspicious. Another white pup—looked a whole lot like Hotaru, but wasn't her. No, it was a boy, like the nice wolf that came to visit often, but smaller, obviously.

His words were hella confusing. Nuh uh, Lilitu responded, brow wrinkling. There was only one Mama, in her eyes, and she was all the way over at another den. She pointed her nose in illustration. Mama thehw. ('There', for those of you who can't comprehend Miryam's atrocious baby-talk spelling.)

She paused for a second at his question. Witu, she attempted. It wasn't quite right, but it was good enough for now. Besides: who was asking?! Who you? Lilitu shot back, hardly intimidated by his put-upon swagger. She wasn't about to let these white wolves get her down.