Wapun Meadow I’m just a little moon running from the sunrise.

She spent the night in that fusty forest on the far side of the mountains. When she woke, the ethereal, rolling mists distracted her from her aches and pains. She strode slowly north, trying to limber her muscle in the cold February air. Towhee could not bring herself to regret yesterday’s run.

Nor did she regret its tryst. There was a split second while she toileted, her scent wreathing her, when she fretted: What if I have four again? But Towhee shoved the thought away. She’d spent so much time dwelling lately, she simply refused to indulge in the practice anymore.

She reached the meadow at the edge of the woods. Her body hurt, yet still it made its demands. Towhee’s paws crunched against dry grass and dead flowers as she pondered the merits of awaking the valley with a caterwaul.