Sun Mote Copse Bill Barilko disappeared that summer

Bronco needed her help with something? Oh, boy, that sounded official and important, which her older brother confirmed moments later. Alyx was rapt as she pranced along beside him, taking three or four steps for every sweeping one of his. Already she was developing a defined personality, and there were two absolutes already in place:

1. She hated dirt.
2. She loved feeling important.

Imp den bees nest? she clumsily repeated, tripping over a rock in the process and stumbling. She whirled around to pin it with the full force of her electric blue eyes, sucking in a breath and yelling, NO, BOCK! Another scrape of her paws and then she scampered back to Bronco's side just in time to hear his all-important mission.

The tyke froze on the spot.

M... muddy? she repeated, blinking slowly. Two parts of Alyx warred inside her: the part that wanted to be special and important and recognized, and the part that couldn't stand even a speck of filth. There were exceptions, of course: she was a klutzy child, so falling down was still a common occurrence for her. She was also getting to the age where pounding on her siblings was a fun pastime and, determined to be the most important among them, Alyx was quite vigorous when it came to play-fighting. But the dust generated by those activities was easily removed, and she was already becoming a compulsive little groomer.

But... mud? Noooo, she wailed, fixing Bronco with a pleading look that she hoped would communicate all her despair about mud.