Bearclaw Valley a dove is a glove that i wear on my heart

she had only taken her eyes off of her children for a moment, drifting off into delicate slumber.  a rippling growl caused her heart to lurch and she bounded out of the den with her hackles raised.

tadec.  her two-toned gaze raked from her friend to the winged beast and then to her son.  with fervent rage, she leapt towards the eagle and attempted to rend his flesh from his bone in any way she could.  nobody hurt the pups of bearclaw and got away with it.