Swiftcurrent Creek kindertotenlieder

:D!

to catch a Tiercel, you have to think like a Tiercel; rarely was she ever where she should be. if memory serves, the saying goes: when Wyllas are away, junebugs will play in areas verboten for access in their pursuit of nuisance-making. 

he didn't spy her, oh, but she spied Mahler—from a short distance away, while she was pouncing on the porch of some vole or ground squirrel’s burrow. mother had warned against answering the door for those paying visit when she wasn’t home, but… technically she wasn’t answering the door, because she was nowhere near it, and this was her friend! friends couldn't be snubbed! Tiercel visibly lit up with a thrifty sort of excitement as he dropped unidentified loot, summoning her to attend him with a whuff. the girl dropped her shoulders and hunkered down in the grass, "sneaking" towards him with a junglecat’s supple stalk (...if junglecats ploughed through the grass in a more on-the-nose sense of flushing out prey). 

”rrrrrrrr!” she lunged at his prone figure from the grass, sticking the landing this time with her best imitation of Wylla’s menacing stance (or whatever Tiercel got when she was acting in a manner most uncivilized) as she revealed herself a tail-length away, in relativity to his prodigiousness.

that being said, of course, she didn’t want him to be too terribly frightened by her convincing demonstration. she relaxed the tortile lines of her face to mantle the childish geniality that was much more approachable, tail whirring like a belt tied to an industrial fan as she awaited his dictum. though she tried her very best to be polite and self-possessed, she couldn’t help her eyes from gravitating anxiously to the downy object secured under his paw.