Verdigris Ravine Poltergeist

Zoug seemed to understand, even in absence of the proper words to explain — and this had always been the way of things between them, even as he taught Candle his language and learned her own. He spoke again of a cave; a place where they would be safe from wolves, from the scorching whims of their desert home. A place for their children, she understood in some instinctive way, though Zoug had not voiced this.

Candle nodded, her heart racing as he reached for her. And she met his touch without hesitation, but she was subdued in this moment; careful, mindful of the fact that Zoug had never initiated touch before this. She did not want to overwhelm him.

Or maybe she did want that; to pull him close and wrap him in a tight embrace, to hear the steady thrum of his heart and feel the desertweave of his fur mixing with the red shadow of her own. But not at the cost of his comfort! Never for that price. And so she was slow in the press of her muzzle to his fur, a soft whine brewing in her throat, agreement and affection twined in her tone. A cave, then. A place to raise their children in love and safety, and in the wordless understanding which had always been theirs.