Cricket Creek Bog Unless I say so, ain't your Barbie, no

Thank you for taking me home, miss Erzulie, Alyx repeated, fidgeting while she tried to think of something else to say. She wanted to come across as grown up, graceful and eloquent as any well-bred lady, but conversing with anyone but relatives wasn't her strong suit. She stayed awkwardly silent even as Erzulie cleaned mud from her fur, sending static zinging up her spine and into the back of her head.

Man, she wished her mom was as nice and loving as this lady. Not that Niamh wasn't loving in her own way, but, well... Niamh was Niamh. She wasn't exactly the sweet, matronly type, and Alyx wasn't exactly a warrior.

Speaking of Niamh... Alyx's head lifted bolt upright when first her golden mother, then her dark-furred father appeared. Mom! she cried, lurching toward them, dad! God, she'd missed them. Even if she'd had a decent time with Rusalka, mostly getting to know Val, she loved her family dearly and was happy to see them again. When Niamh reached her, Alyx crashed into her mother's embrace, whining softly and wriggling. When Phox arrived, she angled her muzzle toward him and aimed to lick the side of his muzzle.