Wheeling Gull Isle Put a big bird in a small cage it'll sing you a song

Nostrils still trembling from her sneeze, Thresher froze as her mother's tongue began to swipe along her spine, flattening her soft, milky fur, and causing the pup to relax and slowly sink back to the ground. There was something so comforting about her mother's touch that almost instantly lulled the girl into a feeling of security and care. She smacked her lips together, and began to worm her way along her mother's elbow, searching blindly through her mother's fur and following along toward where the skin was softer, and she knew she would find a meal. It was a rare opportunity for her to sneak a drink of milk without having to clamber over her siblings, or be pushed and shoved out of the way. Once she found what she was searching for, she latched on, and began to drink, kneading her mother's fur with her little paws as she did so.