Through filtered sunlight, Zera toddles from the base of the great oak. She's grown adapt to the way the wind winds around the den at night and the way the sun blares yellow spheres through the leaves. Milky eyes peer through towering grasses, every movement catches her attention. As far as she knows, @Darrah, the near twin, slumbers in the dark of the den. But little Tainn, though readily bold and eager, still finds it hard to face the world alone. She shudders beneath inky fur, slinking back into a patch of thick grass as a murderous crow glides into the oak's branches.
The world is loud with life. Developing ears sense the chirping birds, cradling the cicada orchestra. Somehow yesterday was so bright, the sun shone fiercely through the Bend's great oak -- but today Zera noticed, was dusky blue and the big, open sky filled with tinfoil clouds. She noticed the thick scent of rain, and the muggy weight it carried when she breathed. She wondered where her brother was and glimpsed over her shoulder to the den's entrance. She only saw the empty shadow of oak roots and huffed through her tiny, upturned nose. If her brother wasn't going to enjoy the new scent of muggy air, then she would by herself.
Zera lept right out of her grass shelter into the foggy air. At this age, when she moved it was with all the grace of a bouncy puppy, on near-nimble paws and bounding legs. She crunched through the grass, pausing to discover the veins of a shed leaf or a rigid stick's bark. Zera couldn't help but grab it tight in her jaws, realizing it was just to heavy to carry! She pulled back with all her strength, an attempt to drag the imposing branch back to the den, where she could show it to her mother. But with one last tug, straining every muscle she had in that puppy body, the rotten bark slipped from the wood and she tumbled back, flailing back to her high-grass shelter. Zera whined at the decomposing wood on her tongue and shook her head violently, giving her best effort to get it out of her mouth.