Ginger

Lore

Ginger greets morning at a run. The swallows start first, an advantage she has been trying to correct for years.

Her rusty springer ears fly beside Frostspring’s streams. Her nose reads the wet grass and the tracks beneath it. Lady might see a butterfly. Ginger sees where it settled, what passed underneath, and several things worth investigating on the way.

When mist covered the mountain crossing, she followed the birds above it and carried Lady’s call beyond the ridge. Sparky searched the low passages. Dusty stayed with the frightened arrivals. Their family’s light gathered in the Sisterhood Stone, though the actual rescue still required a great deal of running.

After everyone returned, Ginger went back once more. Just in case. The sky held more wings than she could follow, and the woods more lives than she could count. She could check the next bend. So she did, with her ears arriving shortly afterward.