Bearclaw Valley in the end i danced with a ghost

vail woke from the underbrush with a sleepy croak, lifting paws to rub viciously at her eyes.
spring was doing a number on the girl. she was itchy and she could not stop sneezing. but it beat the terrible cold that chilled her to her bones and forced her to curl up in hollows for most of the day.
stretching long legs, vail ushers herself from the hole she’d carefully made in a patch of sprouting briars, ample protection from anything that might tried to snatch her up while she was unconscious.