Systematic re-homing

With her pack on her shoulder, the mother wolf would follow her pup. Looking with him at the trees above them. Her little one declared that none of these were good enough. That was alright, there were some decent sized oaks at the corner between wolfpaw lake, the ravine, and the moor.

She nudged him gently, and indicated for him to follow her. Leading him beneath the towering trees, and listed the names of the ones she recognised. Pointing out this and that as she saw them. Teaching him the names of things, and speaking just so she could hear his voice raised in reply. Questing always to bring out the simple, wonderful sound of his laughter. “That one is a Willow Oak Little Deus, so you see the long thin leaves clustered about the branches?”