Bearclaw Valley in the wake of my name

her children grew daily; and watching them grow, learning their personalities as they came into them was a delight. but towhee grew more and more den weary, needing more breaks to stretch her legs. her only wish — strange as she had never yearned for something she had never had in the first place — was to hear their voices. it would never happen, of course. and towhee was who she was, crafted fiercely despite the obstacles she over came every day.

still, she found herself wondering what they might sound like.

she stretches, enjoying the morning sun on her back, peering up at ghost as the children are left in the brief care of a sitter.

there was a family of goats which scattered promptly as the wolf came for them, clattering up, down, and sideways out of reach, except for a startled kid which happened to lose its footing. that alone was a blessing, as kigipigak had not eaten in quite some time — so he set upon this fallen creature voraciously, lunging from the fernbed with teeth bared.

he was either oblivious to the stranger in the sun, or uncaring. his teeth set in to the kid's neck and with a quick throttling, dispatched it. before long he was cutting in to the gut, but he stopped — noticing a subtle movement among the shadows of the trees, at which point... he saw her.

apologies, i did not see you. he licked blood from his lips, taking a step back from the still-warm carcass, and ducked his head.