Bella was quietly tucked away in the darkest corners of the den, vying for a shadowed comfort that only the darkness could offer. Her nose was tucked into the plume of her tail, legs curled carefully around the other as her body sat positioned and ready to listen. She watched with a carefully curated gaze, half-lidded masts lingering along the darkened silhouette of her mother as she moved toward the sounds of the wind.

Voices had seemed to pepper the air, their garbled calls a disconjoined symphony between the booming and cracking of the sky. Bella could not decipher what exactly it was that her mother had heard, and although a part of her believed it to be nothing but the rain and the wind, she could not help but draw herself forward.

Quickly, as if she were an asp readying to strike, she leapt to her feet in an instant.

Bella chased the shadow of her mother, poking her head out with curious skepticism as the rain pellted the darkened world ahead. Who’s there, momma? She whispered through a hiss.