Bearclaw Valley my isle of golden dreams

indra had devoted nearly all of her time to guarding laurel's den - in the cheerless cold weather, she found exhaustion had seeped into her bones and blurred her vision. unbeknownst to her, she had drifted off into sleep -- a slumbering gargoyle propped against the stony slab of laurel's den.

a yip awoke her, and she blinked sleepily, tadec's thin muzzle and bright penny eyes swimming into clear focus. a yawn pressed forth from her mouth and she canted an ear towards the den -- laurel seemed asleep, and the puppies, while nosy, were making noises the redleaf had come to associate with content. indra rose to her feet in a stiff motion, stretching out one hind leg and then the other before asking "where?"