Redhawk Caldera songsweet

Sora's eyes and head moved lazily, as thought there was a buffering delay between the deft movements of the butterflies and her brain's comprehension of them. This was to be expected. Her vision was still blurry and difficult to focus, but she was no less interested in what was going on. Each noted movement was met with an excited coo. At times, the rotund pup would lurch as though she meant to give chase, but each time she settled back into the crook of mama's arm.

That is, until Bridget came along. With no comprehension of spoken language thus far and her hearing still cotton-filled and muddy, Sorana did not know her by name, but knew her scent by now and thought of her as the brightness. She was radiant where Teya was stormy; she was the sun peeking out from behind the clouds that covered her dam. Sorana perked up when Bridget's scent wafted to her and she leaned forward, nose a-twitch and tail thumping gently behind her.