Duskfire Glacier Can it all be too real?

Imaq's ears fluttered, hackles prickling as her head jerked up. Tensing, the she-dog whipped her head towards the entrance of the den -- half pulling herself up into a defensive crouch. Blinking in surprise, the woman felt the sudden terror of her husband's silent approach trickle away, leaving only abashed embarrassment in its place. Licking her chops, as if to smooth away the snarl that had been forming, Imaq straightened and cast a glance towards their son. 

"Siku sleeps," the mother whispered needlessly, gesturing with her speckled muzzle that they should slip from the den and sit outside. 

The cur settled awkwardly on her haunches after joining Rye within the main passage of the Caverns -- still not quite used to moving without her leg. "Imaq is sorry. Imaq not.." the shepherd trailed off, frowning in frustration. 

The Qeya-Black could not quite figure how to put into words that she slept more lightly these days, that she had only been startled when he appeared so suddenly and the fear didn't have anything to do with Rye himself. 

Resorting to touch, she sidled closer and dipped her head beneath the woodlander's -- nuzzling into the junction of his shoulder reassuringly.