Boring! Booooring!

Bored!

Roskva huffed as she stomped the winding interior corridors of Northfall's mountain. There was no one around to play with! At three months old, she now subsisted on a primarily meat-based diet, and somewhere between the ten thousand questions of 'What's that?' and 'Why?', she felt the constant urge to chew on everything around her.

PLAY WITH MEEEEE! she howled into the empty air.

Only silence answered.

Now thoroughly put-out, the pup looked for the nearest discarded stick and flopped down to set to work gnawing at it - and in her stillness, small motes of light began to pop into existence all around her, drifting lazily through the air.

Fortunately for her bored sister, Kvitrafn was in the area. She, too, had gone off to explore for things to do, birds to watch, and bugs to collect, but had ultimately grown bored in the interim. She had seen all the birds she could count, dug up all the bugs she could chew, and were it not for the super cool stick she found, she would’ve dragged her lengthy paws all the way back home…defeated.

BUT HUZZAH!

She had found a glorious, gnarled, and twisted stick.

Just large enough for her to wield without toppling over on her side and just small enough for her to carry at a languid pace, if she kept her paws and eyes straight in front of her, that is.

When her sister’s scream tore through the air, Kvitrafn was obliged to listen.

If not her, then who?

But as she approached, jaw clamped possessively around her new stick (that she so was not in the mood to share), Kvitrafn found herself pausing as her own eyes grew into wide, amethyst saucers.

There were those funny-looking lights fluttering around her sister again.

Kvitrafn still didn’t quite know what they were.

But what better way to learn than with her newfound stick?

She wondered whether they would disappear if swiped at, or whether the lights themselves would bounce and sway in the wind. Were they attracted to her sister like some animals were to flowers? Or did they come out of her sister? Were they attached to some long piece of hair that was too thin for the eyes to see?

Kvitrafn had too many questions.

So, she raced forward—stick in jaw, a bellied scream atop her lips, and aimed to swipe at the space above her sister’s rump—hopeful in her attempt to see what would happen to those tiny motes of light.