Dragoncrest Cliffs Bichir

That pleading whisper broke Meerkat’s heart. Suddenly she was scuttling into the den like a crab, desperate to be beside her son. Minding his wounds, she curled up as close as she could, licking a soothing stripe between Swordfish’s eyes, up over his brow and forehead.

When she registered his question, Meerkat could only say, Me? She paused for a beat before whispering, I’m just worried about you, Fish. How are you feeling? What do you need?

Her forepaws fluttered toward his wounded flank as if she wanted to touch him but she didn’t. She didn’t want to hurt him by accident. Instead, she bent over him again, grazing her nose gently against the top of his head. She just lingered there, drawing in his living scent, the same one she’d breathed in the day he’d been born from her body.