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other-one, came the wordless thought: only a silent sensation of familiarity washing her primal little senses. she was lifted and placed in the easy calming scent of her mother. hers was a bevy of outdoor things that mireille had not yet explored, and would not for some time.
calmed now that she had been plucked from the pack of them, the girl yawned and went hunting through the texture of rosalyn's fur for the bouquet of fragrances, pausing here and there to fill her nostrils truly with one or another. her voice was soft, questioning rather than a sharp pierce.