Twisted Slough the ground beneath us is shaking, the sheep are finally waking

Afterward, Masque desperately needed a bath. Riley did too, by the look of him. But as badly as she wanted to get away from this place, she made herself sit for a moment to collect her energy and reflect.

Some time later, she broke the melancholy silence to say wryly to her mate, I promise we’ll do some hunting on this hunty-moon soon.

She sighed and closed the distance between them once more, which thankfully wasn’t very much. Masque bumped her crown beneath Riley’s chin, then slipped away so she could catch his eye.

Tomorrow, she declared softly. We’ll hunt and explore and enjoy ourselves. I promise, she repeated.

She blinked over at Ashlar’s grave. They could be sad about his loss—and Masque certainly mourned one less kindred spirit in the world—but she decided to look at this morbid discovery in a different light.

Ashlar had come out here to die. His story was over. She and Riley had come all this way to live. Their story was only just beginning.