Blackfeather Woods you are young and life is long

"What's wrong with Squeaky?" asked the pale child, but for now the answers lingered in the tense air between the adults, not yet made for her ears. She could only conclude that therefore, nothing was wrong with the dark one. Legs made for the shadows as something appeared to be bothering her. You can't hide there, the pale child thought wistfully as Legs ran. Legs could never hide, for she was too white, like the spirit herself, except not ready to embody this.

With a purred yip the spirit accepted the caretaker's nuzzle. She then pounced at Squeaky, likely awakening her, but then settled by the dark one's side and bathed in the shared warmth of their pelts touching as she drifted off to sleep alongside her ill counterpart.