Stone Circle In a quiet kind of litany, she accepted some defeat

She felt the sorrow radiating from Bjarna, felt it in the delicate warmth of their embrace, the way the pale girl felt almost breakable. Yes, something was wrong, but the girl could not tell her. Reverie was considering calling for Gunnar when Bjarna dropped into a play bow.
Then she knew what to do. She froze in the manner of any dog catching the eye of a playmate, her tail high and mostly still but waving here and there in delight. Pale chest furs mussed the snow as she mirrored Bjarna's bow and woofed softly. She butted her head playfully against the girl's shoulder, and took off past her; an invitation to follow, to run with her and forget her worries for a moment.