Sunset Valley marionberry

when the dreamer returned, the rain had kicked up into a higher drizzle. she was tucked into the back of the shelter with the little ones.

he pushed a trout into that oval entrance, leaning on his belly for a moment to be sure it reached her. 

fresh fish after so much salt. would she like it?

he lingered at the doorway after, then lay down and closed his eyes against the small storm. it would pass, and he would not wake with frost rimed on the tips of his pelt as he did so often beside the sea.