Moonspear Frantic feathers.

Towhee didn’t notice the pale coyote sticking his head out of the nearby log. She was too busy glancing up the mountainside, watching as Rolayne plunged down it and ran at her with open arms. She braced her hind legs and opened hers in turn, catching the boy when he made impact.

Heya, Roly. How are you? she asked, hanging onto him and giving him a playful noogie.