Blackfoot Forest i. please be gentle,

the four-year practically beamed, turning a warm smile and sparkling emeralds towards sandulf. a doubt had whispered in her head for the past several moons, a treacherous murmur that the herd-stalker was useless without the full capacity of her limbs. it lit a small fire in her chest to know that even sandulf, a practical stranger, was accepting of her capabilities -- albeit, he might've just been overly kind. 

"ah," the cloudberry breathed, as if to say, i see. it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if there were many messages to send between packs but this seemed too much -- prying and suspicious. anyhow, something had stilled her tongue as if afraid to chase him away with incessant chatter. 

several heartbeats passed between them and the woman who had been aiwëndil could not still the question that bloomed in the silence. 

"is sandulf happy? in riverclan?"