the thing about bathsheba was that she enjoyed following bison herds upon their migrations. no one had told her to do this; in fact, through her life the defective lynx had been prevailed upon to change her ways.
it had angered and infuriated her mother, for it was energy expended quite uselessly. with bison came wolves, and in the treeline the greater cats waited. foolish.
and so bathsheba had gone off eventually and returned in the family way, only to be chased off by her mother. confused, angered, the girl raised the first three kittens alone, wandering on when they were of age.
the second time she fell pregnant, the young lynx returned home and was aided by the woman who had borne her, for her mother was pleased to see her wayward child devoting herself to more fruitful practices.
it was a common enough pattern among their kind; three times had bathsheba nursed sandy kittens, rearing them into fine hunters. not a one of the nine inherited her predilection for bison-following. but this did not matter.
the plain was expansive and barren now, but as bathsheba passed lightly across the shorn grass, she saw that all around was green. a light curtain of soft snow slanted downwards, clinging to her redbore coat as olive stare searched for the massive figures she had followed all her life.
it had angered and infuriated her mother, for it was energy expended quite uselessly. with bison came wolves, and in the treeline the greater cats waited. foolish.
and so bathsheba had gone off eventually and returned in the family way, only to be chased off by her mother. confused, angered, the girl raised the first three kittens alone, wandering on when they were of age.
the second time she fell pregnant, the young lynx returned home and was aided by the woman who had borne her, for her mother was pleased to see her wayward child devoting herself to more fruitful practices.
it was a common enough pattern among their kind; three times had bathsheba nursed sandy kittens, rearing them into fine hunters. not a one of the nine inherited her predilection for bison-following. but this did not matter.
the plain was expansive and barren now, but as bathsheba passed lightly across the shorn grass, she saw that all around was green. a light curtain of soft snow slanted downwards, clinging to her redbore coat as olive stare searched for the massive figures she had followed all her life.
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