The Everglade Circle (2)
What were the earliest memories that she could remember? It was something that made up a large portion of who a person would be. Childhood events. People they've met and known.
A young cub walked behind the form of her tremendous father, the sounds of soft grassy blades crunching underneath her paws. Soft. Delicate. Pliant. It was easier to focus on her feet than the eerie and sometimes overwhelming cloud of mists that surrounded them.
She was afraid that she'd lose him in the thick veil of mists, but the lumbering and large figure was reassuring. This was the few times that he'd ever taken her out on his own.
It was odd that they'd left her brother behind–normally, they'd be more concerned about him, and she understood because he was sick but… there was her time with her own father and that was worth something.
Especially when the fogs seemingly vanished and gave way to the serene view of a lake, and a singular large tree in the center of it all.