Qeya River who’s got the high ground now, obi-wan?

Three months was a big age.

Phoebe was pretty damn sure she was like, the most mature kid ever. It was why she was quite happily ranging farther through the territory, kicking cans by the train tracks and not showing up until somebody had to come look for her. Or she got hungry. Whichever one came first.

Today, she’d found a rock. Not a very big rock, but very big for someone like her. She crept the corner of her mouth under a fang, considering every angle, before she moved into a dead sprit. Her chest hit the rock first, driving the air from her lungs in a harsh wheeze, before she fell flat onto her back with her legs twitching like a cockroach.

Okay, she considered. Plan B. Which of course was standing up and doing the exact same thing until it worked. She got all the way to plan H before she managed to get a foothold and scramble up the side, wobbling there until she managed to stabilize. Once she wasn’t about to tip over, she whooped her superiority. Like a hyena who’d sucked down helium.