Little Goat Mountain morgendlich

he missed this, as much as he would immediately deny it.
he blinked thoughtfully at what was wylla's scent.
their children too. it was only them.
he slowly drew back, licking the salt cornered at his father's lip. his watery eyes made everything look like a blotchy acrylic, impressionist. this had played out differently than he had imagined. what would he make of it now?
he'd shed too much of skin to turn tail back to nowhere. he was rendered unconventional in speech, so he couldn't explain himself either.
he pushed his ears back. he looked at his father.