Wild Berry Meadow Racing empty boulevards (there I go)

There, from the distance, came a voice. The voice of Zharille.

Oh, the sweet melody. And it was sung just for her!

Delighted, and eager, her pace quickened. But only until the two were in sight of one another. She would draw close, then, intent to give her lost sister a proper greeting. An affectionate nuzzle or two, and later a nudge upon her shoulder.

There were questions and sentiments passed. Ranva would answer them.

I have been wandering. Searching. Learning! And many things she had learned indeed. But what of Zharille? What had she been up to?

Gaze urging and inquisitive, Ranva sought similar answers.