It was early morning, so early that the sun hadnt even begun to rise; so early it was hard to call it morning in the first place. It was that in-between time. Everything was still and quiet, and safe, and dark. The first order of business was to find a place to sleep, and that could be accomplished pretty quickly in a place like this.
As she went hurriedly along, the raccoon would pause over a smell or grab at something in the mud, then jam it in to her face. Oftentimes they were worms, on one instance a fistful of grasses and beetles whose bodies crunched in her molars, and one time nothing but mud - that was unlucky.
But eventually, yes. There came a tall and twisting tree whose branches tried in vain to reach out over the creek. It was big to her little eyes, and would make a good home. Her scrambling was the only sound for miles as she climbed high. This moment was a make-or-break kind; if there wasn't a good knot somewhere to excavate, she'd never make a home out of this perfect tree.
As she went hurriedly along, the raccoon would pause over a smell or grab at something in the mud, then jam it in to her face. Oftentimes they were worms, on one instance a fistful of grasses and beetles whose bodies crunched in her molars, and one time nothing but mud - that was unlucky.
But eventually, yes. There came a tall and twisting tree whose branches tried in vain to reach out over the creek. It was big to her little eyes, and would make a good home. Her scrambling was the only sound for miles as she climbed high. This moment was a make-or-break kind; if there wasn't a good knot somewhere to excavate, she'd never make a home out of this perfect tree.
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