Dragoncrest Cliffs follow the moskva down to gorky park

Gravity drew the tear down to meld with the fur of her foreleg. Meerkat couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away or move. She recognized it as silly—there were many more reasons to be happy, lately—yet she just let herself focus on the negative and wallow for a moment. Nobody needed to know, so she could get this stuff out of her system and get on with her life.

She heard what sounded like pounding footfalls behind her and stiffened, her head raising and turning to glance over her shoulder. Meerkat saw a figure running toward her and braced herself for impact, crouching in the sand and unwittingly making herself even harder to see. Fortunately for both of them, the young girl—oh, this must be Mireille—managed to toss herself sideways at the last moment and a collision was avoided.

Mireille exclaimed in apology, though Meerkat wondered if she would take it back once she realized who she’d nearly tripped over. It was not a particularly charitable thought, though at least she could recognize that. She began so sit up, then stand, aware that she needed to get out of this situation quickly, lest her sour mood make matters even worse.

But then she abruptly remembered the girl’s recent absence and how it had affected Njord. Meerkat grew still, looking pensively at Mireille, even chewing at her lip. Surely she could control her emotions, even though she felt like an overexposed nerve. She could do that—she could tolerate more of this “guilty until proven innocent” treatment—for Njord.

It’s okay, Mireille… you are Mireille, right? she said quietly.