Valley of Gold i wear my soul on my sleeve at night

she loved it when he called her squeaker. it was something just the two of them had. it didn’t matter to her that dusty had something special with the other kids, too — if she even knew about their secret nicknames. it just mattered that she was squeaker, and nobody else. 

her tail end wagged eagerly as she ran up to him; with anyone else, she may have stuck her face directly into whatever she was being beckoned towards, but she swelled beneath his pride and paused to linger there instead.