Bearclaw Valley don't let it shake your steady thread cutting hand

thank you for the thread!

the little spitfire might not have enjoyed the initial bath, but indra felt a kinship growing in the offspring that were not her own. they would never be her own, but she could be their surrogate, their rock -- the way she and laurel had been each others' rocks. indra's grooming soon became absent-minded as she thought of their future, of their past, and of the little lives they guarded -- someday, maybe things would change.. but for now, indra groomed the firebrand with careful teeth, and after a perfunctory completion of said bath, fell asleep alongside the spirited little cub.