Bearclaw Valley pickin' me a bouquet of dogwood flowers

So, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Further encouraged by the lick to his chin, he’d felt a sudden burst of energy, but it had slowly started to dwindle. The ground was still fairly difficult to work with—no longer frozen solid, but still not as soft as it’d be in the spring. He regretted, momentarily, the decision to dig out the old whelping den; the more he dug, the more frustrated he got, arms and chest slowly turning from white to tan and then to brown. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not stop, clean himself off, and find a new place for his children to be born. He did pause, however, when he realised that she was digging, too. He hadn’t even noticed her help, having been so incredibly focused on watching his paws slam forward and pull back, over and over and over and over…

Shaking out his coat, he watched her for a few moments longer, happy. His frustration faded away and he was reminded why he’d decided to dig out the whelping den—it was his way of sharing the memory of his mother with not only his unborn children but his friend, too. It was also his way of letting her know that he’d forgiven her; wherever she was, her soul need not be burdened any longer by the weight of his rage.

His mother was free, and he felt as if a weight was lifted from his own heart.

With a few slow wags of his tail, he started digging again, this time mindful of his companion’s presence and careful not to hit her paws with his own. Again, from the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn he saw something move, only this time it brought a faint, knowing smile to his lips.

***

The digging was done in silence, with several breaks spread out from start to finish. The passage of time went unnoticed and his joy was unhindered when they finally broke through the earth; although some of the den had fallen victim to the storm and collapsed, it seemed as if that could not be said for the entirety of it. Peering into the darkness, he was perfectly still, right before crawling through the opening and into the den, using his body to widen the entryway further. He moved around within there for a few moments, testing the stability, before exiting and stepping to the side of the entrance. With an unspoken expectancy shining in his eyes, he went back and forth with his muzzle, pointing it at Reigi and then to the entrance, trying to encourage her.

Perhaps he was a little more excited that he should be, but he couldn’t contain himself. Would she like it? Would she accept it? His mother had liked the location enough to dig the den originally, so surely it had some sort of positives going for it other than having once housed the young alpha himself.