Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts

The mishevious Kea chuckled softly as she got the wolf, and then hopped up, fluttering her wings enough to sit on Morts back. With the leopard at his side, he followed Malalia back to the fire. He was dry now, both fro. The fire and the moving about he had done. It was good not to feel chilled to his bones. He could have snuck back into his family's den at the obsene hour, but Malalia showed no signs of heading home.

Instead, she curled up by the fire, and he did so too. Placing himself beside her and in front of the flames. If he stretched out, he could reach her stomach with his toes. Instead, he tucked them up, and already out his wings, draping the ends over Malalia, an invitation for her to use them as bedding if she wished. His kea curled up behind his ear, and the leopard on his other side. The cat was tucked tightly under the wing with just his head sticking out.
Set just so, the young wolf smiled, and cushioned his head on his paw, closing his eyes. Malalia was his greatest friend in all the worlds, and he had spent the day in laughter and her company. He could ask for nothing better.