Stone Circle Look at those potatoes

Clary snuggled her face into the Great Warmth's embrace, content, for once, to simply exist. The licks across her back came in a slow and soothing rhythm, and she gurgled a noise of pleasure. But even pleasant was the presence of these new things - the sounds. The Great Warmth had a voice, gentle and lovely. A voice which lulled her, and though the Great Warmth hummed murmurings Clary didn't understand, she decided she loved every distant rumble and mumble that came from Her lips.

She loved, too, the other murmurings, grunts, and growls that came from the ones she shared the den with. A higher pitched sound reached her unfolding ears, and she recognized the voice of her sister. Clary gasped a stretching yawn and wiggled closer into the Great Warmth's fur. Maybe she would join her sister later.