Sleepy Fox Hollow we are love

Anselm had grown used to the boundaries of their den. He rarely contested them -- so when Wylla set off into the bright sunlight and then turned around with an inviting gesture and sound, he was bewildered.

It was not until Mahler nudged him did Anselm trudge forward. Emmerich was well ahead, the spearhead of the group -- while Isa remained the anvil, holding back and falling once before regaining her ground.

Anselm's tail waved uncertainly. The sights, the scents, and the smells mesmerized him. Somewhere nearby was the sound of rushing water, the scent of dampness and leaves. Anselm knew none of these senses for what they were, but with his tail wagging he fumbled his way towards Wylla and Emmerich with eyes bright and ears floppy.