Bearclaw Valley solitude

Piper was fixing herself to be a trouble maker. Already, she had begun to worry her aunt with her small cries and fragile limbs that circled endlessly in an attempt to move somewhere away from where she was. If she were stronger, she would have possibly just jetted herself outside of the den and into the valley to accept her fate with the wilds. It would have been a fitting end to the fiery young thing. She was fortunate, though, that she was surrounded by love and devotion. Of course, the Redleaf girl was far too young to know it, but she would grow to realize the astounding support that had been granted to her in the form of Indra and Laurel. Feeling the nudge from her aunt, Piper squawked loudly and shuddered in her place before she inched forward and found a moist foot once more. Her little mouth opened, and she began to suckle against Wyatt with a content sigh. The rusty little whelp was not even upset that his limbs weren’t producing milk for her. She was only pleased that she had returned to her nesting spot.