Sun Mote Copse As if some magic, like a staff found a burning bush

Meerkat mentioned her son bringing back something to eat. Food. She couldn't wait. She was so hungry that her stomach seemed beyond growling. Now there was a constant ache inside, a gnawing pit that seemed to grow larger with each passing hour. Along with the golden motes floating through the air, her vision sparked with black and white dots, and as she brought her head down to look at Meerkat again, the woman swam before her, as if through tears. Her head pounded.

Meerkat's words floated across to her, as if from far away. She tried to think of something to say, but her mouth seemed incapable of speech, her mind fuzzy. She was so tired. One word seemed to latch onto her brain, however: Skipjack. Skipjack, she repeated, because she liked the sound of it. I like that name. She was whispering now, too bone-deep exhausted to speak fully. Feeling dizzy, she lay her head down on her paws.

She felt the woman caress her brow and, had she been less on the brink of death, she might've snapped, might've run away, might've stared at Meerkat in utter confusion. But as it was, she smiled at her gentle touch, one ear flicking at the humming. Then she promptly passed out, though in her current position, it looked as though she'd fallen asleep normally.