Blackfeather Woods Through the Cold

He had an interest in her that she had never seen outside of her own heat. She wondered what about her was making the male so interested; her mystery? Her knowledge? Was she beautiful to him? Her coat was far from pristine, flecks of plant juices and dyes covering her paws, flecking up her sides. With motherhood came her swollen dugs and dirty appearance from puppy stains of waste and filth. Perhaps she was viewing this all wrong, and he was merely grateful for a pleasant face in the Woods.

His inquires made her more convinced of her first thoughts. I was born here, She answers without hesitation. And what brought you here? Whatever his decision, he had little choice but to stay now with the onset of winter trapping them all within the Woods.