Blackfeather Woods tied in deep

Malila curled closer, tighter in on herself. Her ears flitted back, fine brows knitting. All from when he began to pull away. She felt the warmth slipping, retreating. She wanted it back and whined slightly. She rolled to flip over on her other side, facing him. When she did, her eyes fluttered open sleepily.

Up at him she stared, a questioning but silly, tiny smile on her lips. Her dark slender forelegs outstretched, as if to reach and wrap around his neck. The fluffed tip of her tail tapped against the ground, a mixture of cedar shavings and dried leaves.

The spores had had their own effect. But they were freed from their control, now. Was it all a dream?