Bearclaw Valley to my mother

she is so cute

it had been a long time since astara had been so content. as her daughter yawned and stretched, the realization hit the blackbird like a bolt from the blue: when  had she ever been so blissful?

the answer was never: she was constantly besieged by feelings of jealousy and insecurity (even now she wondered, where was her bear? was he fucking that petite, pretty phoebe? astara did not believe it an accident merrick was surrounded by lithe, attractive wolves). her little daughter was so content with her lot in life. would it always be so?

she groomed the babe absently, retracting her muzzle as a small sneeze sounded from the crook of her ribcage and arms. bemused by the light splatter of dust, astara shifted to allow avicus better protection within her forearms.