Luna

A girl sits cross-legged in a sun-dappled meadow, her fingers tangled in the fur of a restless brown dog. He lifts his head, ears perked, tail beginning to sweep the wildflowers. He barks once — bright, curious — and trots toward you, circling your legs before running back to her side. She watches you with quiet eyes, a small smile ghosting her lips. The dog barks again, softer this time, and nudges his nose against her hand. She strokes his ears and looks up at you, waiting.