Willows

It’s not like she hated mornings for it’s own sake. She just didn’t see the virtue in rising before your body told you to, and for her that was usually when the sky was a little brighter. Too, the day just seemed to drag on, when you were awake at the very beginning. Before the very beginning. Her ears pulled against her head at the darkened sky. For another, the quiet of the early morning might have been a calming thing, but for Malalia... well, she just preferred the bustle of the day.

Still, when you were up, you were up. She snorted at her companion’s chuckle, twisting her head to plant her narrowed eyes at him for a brief moment. Then the tawny girl pulled herself up to stand, rolling to her paws and coming upright. She stretched, and yawned ”Good morning,” to the brute. Blinking, she leaned back to sit, and took in the campsite, the ash of the firepit and the light chill that had returned to the area. The drying had been done, it seemed, and her tail thumped in groggy approval. ”Can I try one?” The sudden question came with a slight tilt of her head. She was feeling peckish, but more importantly she’d never had dried meat before.