Bearclaw Valley elastic heart

There was a welcoming committee it would seem. Vega’s eyes traced over the pale she-wolf who came from the den – her eyes a brilliant hue that resembled the crimson leaves of the trees in autumn. She was beautiful, and for a second, Vega felt inadequate in her wake.
 
Yet kindness was apparent, and as Scarlett spoke, the slender female gave a nod, dropping the bird and nudging it in the direction of the regal lady. “Yes,” she spoke, her eyes now drifting to the puppy that revealed a bravado not seen very often. Vega held no claim to being good with children, but she did not dislike them. “I heard you had little ones and thought you might be hungry,” she murmured, her eyes watching Scarlett for any signs of apprehension that there was a stranger around her babies before lowering her muzzle, allowing Desna to poke and prod at her.
 
One ear flickered at the sound of a heaving stomach, and when the smell of soured milk filtered to her nose, her eyes would drift to the puppy of silver, who had promptly emptied her stomach’s contents on her mother’s tail. “Is this a bad time?”