Ankyra Sound i keep on dancing through the quicksand

Treepie’s lips twitched into a little grin at Sobeille’s frank, “Dunno.” Along with the woman’s unique accent, she’d always enjoyed her candor too. She didn’t mince words, nor bother with small talk, and it was one of many things about her that appealed to the Ostrega.

Her heart sank a little at the mention of a cousin, if only because Tiuttuk could read between the lines: her cousin was gone. The use of the word “we” buoyed it a little though. Her yellow eyes flicked to Sobeille’s face, tracing over its striking contours in the gloom, and her mouth went a little dry at the second “we.”

Maybe it went without saying at this point, more than a week after the pups’ birth, but Pie took the opportunity to tell Sobeille, I’m not going anywhere. Her voice echoed off the damp, rocky walls as they headed deeper into the chamber, soon flanking the trio of weeks-old pups. Unless you tell me to get lost, of course, Pie quipped.

There was a thread of apprehension in the sideways glance she tossed at Sobeille while folding herself down beside the pups. She meant it lightheartedly, though it occurred to her that maybe she was being presumptuous, maybe even clingy. The thought that Sobeille might be sick of her, may eventually ask her to get lost, sucked the air right out of her lungs.