Deepwood Weald Once Again

Kitimat was not nearly as crafty as his siblings. Perhaps he could employ some sort of subterfuge, once he'd gotten his limbs and body underneath him, but for now, he was quite unwieldy.

He followed Katmai and sank down with a small sigh next to the bear woman's nostrils, flaring in-out, in-out.

If, by some miracle, he didn't wake the babysitter, he'd watch his siblings in their play, brow wrinkled and blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

And if he did wake her. . .

Oh. He was the picture of contrition, this one, tail tucked and all. He knew discipline.