Moonwatcher's tail continues to flicker, steadily. He sits on his hind legs and studies the rock, not even seeming to notice the quick affection from his mother. I think there are other shapes in the rocks, but this is the first one I have noticed. He glances over his shoulder, quickly, and then springs up to pad forward a few steps. He looks thoughtful.
Tempest remains on the penumbra of the rock formation, pacing with a lazy air of self-contentment.
A full gut swings between his legs. He looks on with the bored expression of detached curiosity. A quiet breeze brings the scent of the lions, and he stops, glancing up to look around for their position alertly. You begin to see. There are shapes in all things, my precious one.