Blood Runs Thicker Than Water

It was very late, or very early depending on who you asked, either way the moon was past its highest point in the sky. The night was warm, pleasantly so, and Neva could not sleep. She felt too much energy, too restless, it felt like a waste to just sleep when they had so much new area to explore. The girl didn’t mourn for the mountain like some others in their group did, she had barely known it by the time that they had moved. But, tonight, tonight the fireflies were bright and plentiful, the bullfrogs croaked away with enthusiasm, and she was ready to get moving.

She kind of missed the travelling. It had been exhausting, but it had been exciting and almost every day had been different, Neva had become accustomed to the lake of routine and familiar. Without it she was beginning to have trouble sleeping through the night, her legs no longer ached from miles traveled, her body no longer drained by the time the moon began to rise.

She tossed and turned, trying to be good and stay put next to her sister and her mom, but it was hard. Then she heard something intriguing enough she could ignore it no longer. Hooves in the grass, whispering through the night. Head shot up in reaction, green eyes roving to find the source of the sound, the owner of the feet trekking through the night. There they were, a mother and her two fawns, the mother moving on timidly given the sleeping wolves nearby, but one of the children had stopped to stare at her movement. Neva blinked back, tilting her head to the right.

But Both Feel The Same When Your Eyes Are Closed