Moonspear like a lost puppy

The pale coyote sprawled in the mouth of the healing ulaq, staring into the neighboring glen as fog rolled in and the sky grew dark. He finally felt a little better, though when a shadow moved out in the darkness, Talisman briefly wondered if she was a figment of a fever dream. But then she said his name and her voice was so clear and familiar, she must be real.

Kusuma? he muttered, minding his back as he pushed into a sit.

Talisman climbed gingerly to all fours, gave himself a careful shake and padded out of the hollow tree. His sharp snout tipped into the air to catch her scent. Yes, it really was Kusuma. He blinked ice water eyes, astonished to see her darkening Moonspear’s doorstep.

Wh—what are you doing here? was the only thing he could think to say.