Silver Moraine XVII

cameo for now! (skippable!)

Sunday Morning sensed a change, although it was not one that brought about true concern. It was familiar, vaguely so. There was amusement in her heart to consider the trials of her brothers. It faded as she understood now it was a trial she and Mountain Boulder shared. In this, Sunday Morning would not test him. His growl was echoed in a whine that only meant, stay safe.

A sound she had heard her mother relay to her father, before his hunts while she whelped. A sound that then became her own, reserved only for her man. She would listen; she pressed her nose against his chin, tail wagging weakly. And only when he was out of sight did she begin to pace as he had, head low to the earth. She made no move to follow, and after a time she reclined onto her haunches, looking at her surroundings with interest. But there was too much energy within her; now and then she would rise again to pace, only to settle. For as long as she waited, Sunday Morning would alternate between these two things where no one would see her.