Duck Lake The sound won't carry

‘Tow-riss’ Berna would utter. Eh, close enough.

“Yes, I’ve traveled. Far.” And upon understanding Berna’s implication, “What… travel now?”

“Umm..” would trail a hum, and over her shoulder she’d look back into the lake. Into the known. There, Tauris would intend to bathe and dry, scratch her fleas then hunt a rat or two. And when night falls she’d curl into a fitful slumber, and tomorrow the day would repeat. The same one she’d been living since she came to the valley. Days passing in petty pace with little import, but of guarantee.

And yet, with curiosity that befits her still-tender age, Tauris could not help to wonder at the creature with a snub-nose.

The two thoughts took turns, the oscillation of a great debate shown only in her dark-tipped tail as it continued to tick behind her. Until with a crumbling resolve, but newly-born interest, the silver girl steps from her shallows onto the embankment, to stand tall before the bear cub.

“Berna lead, Tauris will follow.”