Peanut sticks close—always close.

 

I’ve seen things—things that make me wary of the world outside. But here, in this little corner of the garden, I feel safe. I’ve found my people, my pack, and I would guard them with every ounce of me.

Peanut sticks close—always close. He’s smaller, younger, and he looks to me for comfort. At first, I wasn’t sure about all the attention, the little body pressing against mine. But now… I let him. Because protecting him, letting him feel safe, makes me feel like I’m finally home.

Here on the patio, the sun warms my back, and Peanut’s little head rests against me. I stay alert—ears twitching, eyes scanning—because the world is still full of shadows. But beside my pack, I am calm. I am loved. And I will protect that love with everything I have.