Lilli woke in the disgracefully early hours of the morning, groggy and hungry. She rose from her position at the foot of the stairs and waited for the morning routine to begin.
And it did, as always. The two adults woke up and rushed madly about the house, shouting for spare this, yelling to the other for the toothpaste. The adults did a lot of yelling these days.
Then the toddler woke and provided a constant backround wailing, punctuated by shrieks. The frenzy of noise and movement hurt Lilli's head like it did every day and she backed into a corner of the kitchen, whining. The male adult told her to be quiet.
And finally, the door slammed and a heavy silence fell. Lilli's stomach snarled. She bounded to her food bowl, her mind filled with visions of the hard food they sometimes served her, but her hopes were dashed as she swept the empty bowl with an anxious tongue.
A half-frustrated, half-despairing howl escaped her.
Kous jerked awake in a fit of skittishness. The pink dawn touched his dark fur through the leaves as he lifted his head and cast his gaze over the familiar underside of the bush he called home.
There- a rustle. His gaze darted to a branch behind him and an uncharacteristic tingle of fear wound its way up his spine. He stood and pushed his way out of the bush, panting. The fear did not release its grip on him, however, so he jogged away from the bush. Only a couple of hours ago he had fallen asleep after an unsuccesful hunt, his stomach feeling bloated by the emptiness.
Now he unfurled his legs and let himself fly, feeling the refreshing air on his face and the relief to be moving. He slowed as he neared the human neighborhood.
Might as well try to hunt, he decided, though he rarely hunted in the daytime. As he was passing by a house with several pots of dead flowers on its porch, trying to pick up the scent of anything edible, he heard a loud, long howl coming from the house.



