This post is kind of bad, my apologies.
His head spun in slow circles to match the direction of the butterfly's flight. He felt his tail wagging excitedly behind him, and oh, wished she would come down and play with him. Maybe she would even be his friend. He'd never played with anything but other wolves and, of course, toys. Gotham's enthralled observation of the butterfly was interrupted by the soft thuds of someone small descending the stairs. It had to be Amata or Cambria! The boy paused, turning around to see his cream-furred sister prancing toward him. He had actually expected it to be her, since Cambria seemed very sad. Sad people didn't often like to play.
As she neared him, Gotham's tail waved furiously behind him, his rear-end wiggling. She could help him convince the butterfly to play! At her question he slowed down a little bit, looking up to the butterfly. Couldn't she see? He was about to explain to her when she looked up on her own and realized what had enraptured him so. Gotham giggled softly, "Wells, yeah!" he told her. But her voice suddenly became grave, and when she had finished speaking, the boy's head tilted to one side, puzzled. "Huh? Why she do that? Is she sick, like Cambi?" He uttered his invalid sister's name with sadness, but he was still very curious about Amata's warning.