My Heart

Poem was whisked away for training, and Motif couldn’t help feeling a little left out. She spent so much of her day following around her older sister, that she wasn’t entirely certain what to do with herself. She ended up quietly sitting by the stream, hunting for salamanders. Their bodies fascinated her, with their funny colours, and their oily textures. They moved so fast that she might find one, only to blink and realise it was gone again.

She had just managed to pounce on one, and was holding it, wiggling, beneath her paws. Her prison was gentle enough not to hurt, and hard enough to keep it there. She looked up when she realised her father was approaching, and grinned when he mentioned training. She raised her paw, and released her catch, which shot away like a bird in a divebomb.

”Yes!” she crowed happily, wiggling her tail as she stepped up to her father, and waited for him to lead her to Poem.