Larksong Grotto She is frequently kind

Lilia’s heart leapt with the wolf. She leaned forward and her tail waved. For a second, she was convinced that the wolf would have cleared the ice and would land fine- and her scope was indeed good. She cleared the ice, but she jolted when she landed. Lilia couldn’t clearly see but let out a sharp bark of encouragement. The wolf steadied herself, regained her balance, and found her footing. 

Now, it was her turn. 

She was shorter, and her legs were not nearly as long but she figured she was strong. She backed up to give herself a bit more momentum, and set her sights on the rocky landing spot. She crouched, and scrabbled forward. 

Her hind paws hit the ice patch and sold her short in her leap as they skidded out from under her. That cut her distance down, and she landed on her belly on the icy ledge, nearly knocking the wind out of herself. She splayed her legs, using her long, curved claws to keep herself from teetering off the edge of the ledge. She still had several feet left to go.

Fear gripped her. She couldn’t even look back over her shoulder for fear she might overbalance and tip off the ledge. She looked forward, her eyes wide, and her lips tightened. 

Slowly, she began pulling her feet beneath herself, but the ice was slick. Several paws slid right out from under her and she banged her chin on the ice when she slipped. Again and again she picked herself up only to lose her grip. 

In a humiliating but quite ingenious change of tactics, she began to scoot forward, using her belly for traction, moving like an inchworm. Her front paws reached the boulder- and once she had her midsection clear, she pulled herself to safety and panted, relieved.