Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

Actually, Towhee, Caracal was asleep in the fern thicket just outside his family’s den when the heavenly voice poured over the wilderness. He stirred, blinking groggily as he raised his head, then cringed at the sound of his mother’s racket.

What the f—! he muttered but then fell silent as other voices began calling out from every which way.

That first voice—the one he’d nearly missed—threaded through them all, full of power and grace. God? Is that you? Caracal caught himself thinking a split second before he joined in with a wordless hymn.