These were the days Karina loved the most. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun was so high that its rays filtered through the cedarwood canopy and brightened Karina’s spot on the ground below. It was only on this sort of day that timid pup would even think about venturing out alone, and of course she was only a hop away from the den in which she was born. She was close enough to hear her family breathing inside while they napped, as her mother liked—perhaps Orren and Aleksei occasionally needed a firm reminder to stay near the den, but Karina took comfort being near Kisla. For a pup she was extraordinarily uncurious about the outside world, yearning for the days when she spent every moment curled up in the den with her family. She would most certainly have been there now if not for the entrancing, colorful, smelly toy that had recently appeared here right outside the den. The pup was currently fixated on the purple flower, batting at it occasionally to watch it swing back and forth.
When she first noticed the pretty toy outside the den, Mother had called it something, but the name had quickly slipped her mind. She called it the only word she knew for such a thing—a word that she and her siblings had learned quickly and used quite often. ”Mine,” she told the flower softly. ”Mine.” She rarely used her voice at all, preferring Aleksei to do her talking for her, but when she did speak her words and sentences were neat and coherent. No barely comprehensible, childish garble for this pup.