She had so clearly emoted a desire to play that Sleekwing had not even considered for a moment that she didn’t know how. In the brief moments after he’d playfully bumped her nose with his paw and heralded the game to be played, her look of confusion had not gone unnoticed. But Sleekwing had merely chalked it up to the actual tagging of her nose that had taken her by surprise, and used that to his advantage to sprint away from her. His ears flitted backwards as he ran, listening for the telltale signs that she would give chase. And of course she did.

He did not run full tilt, only having put on a burst of speed at the start to put some distance between them. She gained ground on him quickly, and he anticipated the nudge of some part of her body against his hip to signify she’d caught him. But instead, she lengthened her stride to match his own and fell into step with him. Twisting his head slightly to the side he looked slightly confused until her question enlightened him to the true dilemma here. She’d felt playful, but she didn’t understand this sort of play. Immediately he checked his speed, slowing his run until they jogged side by side along the shore.

“Tag is a game, Kiyomi; popular amongst the pups of Moladion. One wolf is “it” – the tagger. The other wolves try to elude being touched by the tagger. Once they have been touched, and the tagger proclaims that a ‘tag’ has been made, that role shifts from the original tagger to the wolf he has touched.” He speaks with understanding, hoping that she will grasp the idea and learn something new on this day. Every wolf deserved the opportunity to play a game in their life, and he would gladly give that opportunity to Kiyomi on this day. He smiled authentically, and waited for her to give it a try. If she were to reach out and tag him back, he would give her two beats of a head start before giving chase.