Lion Head Mesa The ballads of life

Few words she understood, and fewer among those uttered by the new woman, but in tone alone Neith recognized the spoken praise! It enlivened a little gallop in her feet before she poised herself further, sitting in straight and proper admiration of the stranger, intrigued especially by the colorful objects woven into her fur.

“Neef!” The girl cub replies! Name; she knows this word! “Neef, Neef!” She cheers again, paws stomping in emphasis, the forgotten, half-crushed deathwatch beetle barely limping to its escape beneath the romp of joyous feet.

So preoccupied with her new friend that Momma’s close strides behind her had gone unnoticed by the amiirad, and she only turned once the familiar sweetness and milk-scent prickled recognition into her mind.

“Mama!” A leap, a squeal! And skittering across the stone floor came the pudgy daughter to burrow her nose into Momma’s leg, tail wagging in the carefree bliss that belonged only to children.