Sun Mote Copse waves pulling me

Meerkat hastened toward The Taigh, eager to hug her own children, whose company would smooth out the harsh edges of her black mood. It was so out of the ordinary that she slowed her step halfway to her destination, uncertain whether she really ought to subject the two bairns to any semblance of it. She heaved a great sigh, then made her way to the respite instead.

She leaned against one of the cool stones that marked Narwhal’s memorial, mind buzzing like a hive full of angry bees. Her tail lashed and she shook her head in disbelief. Unbelievable, Meerkat kept thinking, her dislike of the pair solidifying in a heart that was usually much softer and tenderer.

The lady of the copse was still pressed against the small monticle when Njord appeared, drifting toward her. Her eyes were hard as flint when she first clapped eyes on him, though they softened some as he approached. Meerkat certainly wasn’t angry with him, though she felt a little bad for her abrupt departure.

I’m sorry, she repeated her words from moments before, then paused before deciding not to hold back, but I don’t like that man. And I think Asivaq is foolish, which was actually one of the kinder words that had zinged through her mind. Why do they treat us and the copse as if we’re beneath them somehow? What absolute bull— Meerkat bit back the second part of the word, turning her head sharply.