tonight the foxes hunt the hounds...

Life had become a blur for the pups, each day blending seamlessly in to the next all full of sleep and play and eating and growing. They had begun to eat the meat already mostly digested by their parents. Almost daily they saw their father leave to hunt, bringing back goats or hares for their mother. Church had fared somewhat roughly after their birth, not that this went wholly noticed by the pups. Her weight dropped, the bony proportions of her ribs and hips beginning to show while they suckled at her teat. It had been the most rewarding experience of her life, giving so much of herself to her children, but as they transitioned from milk to meat she breathed a sigh of relief for herself.

Life kept on and as it did on many mornings found Bastille piled atop her two brothers, using them equally as satisfying mattresses while their parents large bodies curled around them. Her small legs and ears twitch in her dreams, chasing something off in the distance no doubt, tiny snarls moving her lips until her sisters words and movements disturb her. She bats her dark-gray banded legs at her, a gaping yawn widening her small mouth, “Gerrof…” she mumbles sleepily out of habit before peeling open her eyelids to looks into the excited face of her favorite sister. She hauls herself off of her brother-bed, giving a little shake before trotting over to her gray sister, rubbing their small forms together before pulling back, a question in her ice blue eyes.

There is something exciting about Embla today though, and while she does not answer Bastille doesn’t give a second thought to following her out of the cave with quick little leaps. Bursting out in to the world she hurries to catch up to her, falling into an somewhat awkward trot beside her. Finally she’s made aware of their intentions with Embla's summarily way of speaking and she lets out a high-pitched laugh. Yes her father and mother had told them about “others” that lived in the world, but Bastille’s world was limited to what she saw and knew, in her world all that existed was herself, her siblings, and her parents. There was no thought to “others” of their kind being out there, in her mind they were just stories made up by their parents to lull them to sleep. “You really think there are others like us out there, Em?” her high voice finally said, her doubt very apparent. She knew there were birds that flew above, goats and hares that got killed, and small bugs she had pounced on, but that there were other wolves out there was beyond her mental reach at the moment until proved otherwise.

Still she followed her sister obediently, despite the fact that Embla was smaller than she the two-toned girl always took her queues from her sibling. Embla was deep, thoughtful, while Bastille tended to the here and now, always in the moment and rarely considering what might be beyond that. Unless she was figuring out what kind of trouble to get in to tomorrow the next day didn’t even cross her mind.