Sun Mote Copse and she'll promise you more

it had taken a few days for the soft rabbit pelt jr had salvaged from a clean kill to completely dry to where she felt comfortable presenting it as a gift. she casts a look at ghost who takes to the skies ahead of her as she grasps the pelt betwixt her jaws.

a bit hesitantly, she approaches the birthing den, hoping that @Meerkat wasn't asleep. she does not quiet her approach, putting her weight deliberately into each step, hoping that her steps were enough to draw her sister from the confines of the den that jr would not just barge into.

above, ghost offers a series of short, shrill whistles in an attempt to help ( though jr, of course, did not hear his efforts to announce her ) before he perches nearby, preferring to remain out of reach.

this is one of those times, few as they were, where jr wished she could hear and speak. she wasn't often bothered by her disabilities but in this moment that insecurity flares up, bullying its way thru her carefully constructed confidence. she readjusts her grip on the pelt, though there was hardly any weight to it at all; gaze darting 'round, ready to leave it if her presence wasn't welcomed at the moment.