Bearclaw Valley seal the clouds with grey lining

The second born pup was far too young to understand concepts of kindness, or the rare chance to witness something unexpected like an old rival bringing food and calming plants to another mother in need. Piper did not know of the loving aunt who guarded the outside of the den through each passing day and night, or the resounding devotion that the two sisters felt for each other. The red piebald pup knew only that her mother was the most familiar scent – aside from Thing One (Lucas) and Thing Two (Wyatt) – and she was comfortable nestled beside the warmth of it. It was the loud young girl who had made the mewling noise. She had lifted her head upward and parted her lips to release a cry of delight before she puttered around, aiming to find something pleasant that she could curl up beside. Still blind as a bat, Piper could not have determined the differences between a grizzly bear and a possum if she were two inches from either one. She scooted herself a few inches before she mewled again in the form of a demand for assistance.