The Bracken Woods oh, black lung, you're back

As she finished, she found a patch of moss and rolled repeatedly against it and worked herself dry, and the strong masculine scent of Colt wore away with each roll.

Indra ambled her way back to camp soon after that - cleansed of grime, and of Colt for the most part, but sulking all the same. Her fur wild. Threads of moss stuck in the longer furs of her aching neck.

She saw how he had bedded down for the night, and the look in his eye. Indra moved partway to where she was expected to. Her attention drawn towards the ruined bit of skunk - then wordlessly, she wedged herself in the crook of Colt's larger body.

It was warm here. The proximity to another living body was a comfort regardless of who it was.