Silver Moraine XVII

Sunday Morning rolled back onto her side, then to her belly, chin lingering on her forelegs for a moment as her gaze shifted from Red Eyes to Mountain Boulder. Nothing was decided, yet. But her tail thumped against the earth to know that as of yet, she had not been chased away. As Mountain Boulder bestowed his affectionate gesture, she nibbled tenderly at his chin.

It was then that she sprung to her feet and shook out her furs. A fond rumble came as his fangs combed through them, feeling them flush against her hip. She sought then to swipe her own tongue across the bridge of his muzzle, and as he moved to go Sunday Morning was quick to join him.

Only for a minute did she stay at his side, shoulder to shoulder, her own affirmation. When they came closer to the Rise, she would move to follow him beside his flanks. He seemed set on his path, though as she tasted the air an idea occurred to her. Perhaps it would be good to bring something. A show that she could help provide. And a testament to his own intent to stay and provide, too. A low whuff sounded, as she licked her chops when the breeze tousled their furs. It brought evidence of a nearby warren; not hare, but their smaller companion.

She was confident they could catch one together. But in this venture especially, she followed his lead. Sunday Morning did not stop, keeping in step with him.