Fox's Glade Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true

theirs.
ancelin studied the little thing. it wasn't so much different from a fold-ear wolfcub, at least not at this age. the sound and the claws were different. he watched in rapt fascination as ameline, answering an ancient call he simply would never understand.
it seemed to comprehend more than he did, latching as any baby would in the presence of potential food. "let's get them back to the den, and you," he grunted, not liking the expression on her face. and she was so round. any day now; he wanted to exercise a little protectiveness.
should they announce? or just let the small bear tumble out of the den when the pups began to escape? another grin for the idea.